Away from the Sun
by IMTheresa
Summary: Dean's past, present and fantasy collide.
1. Chapter 1

Yesterday had been a bad day

**Away from the Sun**

Chapter 1

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the boys or any of the related characters – I just like to take them out and play with them now and then.

**A/N**: Is it October yet? I am so ready for a new season of Supernatural! No? It's not, huh. Bummer! Well, while we wait, how about a little fanfiction?

This story is a journey through Dean's mind. Set a few months after John's death, it takes a tour through Dean's past, present and fantasy; to a place where they all collide. There's no job. The only demon to battle is the one inside of Dean.

Reviews are welcome….and craved. I admit it, I'm weak!

oooOOOooo

_I'm not supposed to be scared of anything, but I don't know where I am  
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted and nobody understands how I feel  
I'm trying hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs  
There's no one here to talk to and the pain inside is making me numb_

_Changes, 3 Door Down_

oooOOOooo

Yesterday had been a bad day. Not that the several days leading up to it had been all that great, but the day before was definitely the worst of the bunch. Exhausted and more than a little bruised, Sam and Dean Winchester had fallen into bed a few hours before dawn.

Sam didn't feel any more rested when his eyes opened as when they'd closed. He looked toward the bed next to his, expecting to see his brother asleep on his stomach with one hand under his pillow, but the bed was empty. He turned his eyes to the bathroom door, but it was wide open.

"Dean?" Sam sat up, wincing at the tightness in his muscles.

It wasn't completely unlike his older brother to wake up first and be out of the motel early. Sometimes he'd go for a jog, but other times Sam had no idea where Dean would go. Dean loved his car and his music; Sam suspected there were times he just went out to enjoy them on his own.

He hadn't expected to wake up alone in the room this morning, though. After being with Bobby Singer for almost a week following a decidedly non-paranormal car accident that almost ended his life, they'd been out late the night before taking care of a particularly nasty zombie case that had come up suddenly. Between the fighting and having to rebury the thing, Dean had been as worn out as Sam when they finally made it to a motel.

Sam looked at the bedside clock and saw it was just before noon. He padded to the bathroom, then walked to the window in the bedroom when he was finished. His vague sense of unease went up a notch when he saw the Impala parked where they'd left it only a few hours before. Refusing to panic when there was probably no need, Sam decided to take a shower. He told himself that Dean would be in the room when he was finished, probably with coffee and breakfast for both of them.

No such luck.

Sam took his phone from the charger and dialed his brother's number. He heard the muffled ring of Dean's phone and found it in his duffel bag. Sam also found Dean's jogging shoes in the bottom of the bag.

He had no way of knowing how long Dean had been gone, but it seemed like too long to Sam. He'd forced himself to shower slowly, taking the time to let the warm water help soothe his sore muscles. He'd shaved, brushed his teeth and used the motel hair dryer on his usually unruly hair. Dean clearly wasn't jogging and he wasn't out for a drive. Even for Dean, it was too early to be in a bar. Most disturbing to Sam was that Dean had left his phone. He never went anywhere without it. Ever.

Sam grabbed a key from the desk and left the room. He stood at the edge of the parking lot and looked around. The motel was on the outskirts of a small town and there wasn't much else to be seen. There was a gas station with a convenience store and garage in one direction and a diner in the other.

The diner looked the same as any other from the outside. As Sam got closer, he noticed that the street took a curve just beyond it and there were many more shops and offices open for business. It was just after 1:00 and judging by the dishes at the empty tables, there had been a lunch rush. Sam sat at the counter and ordered a cup of coffee from a pleasant looking woman who was probably in her late 50's. Sam noticed the name on her tag was Clarice.

"Anything besides coffee?" she smiled at Sam as she poured from what smelled like a freshly brewed pot.

"I – uh – I'm staying at the motel down the street with my brother. We're just passing through. I wonder if you might have seen him today."

"We get a lot of people in and out, but mostly regulars. There was a family from out of town…." She paused looking thoughtful. "I don't remember anyone else. Lemme check with Julie, though. I'll be right back."

Sam nodded hopefully as the woman disappeared into the kitchen. He took a sip of the coffee and looked around. The inside was no more remarkable than the outside. Other than the counter seating, the place held primarily booths. The walls were painted a stark white and decorated with old license plates from all over the country. There were also large posters of American muscle cars that Sam knew Dean would appreciate.

A few minutes later the waitress returned with a younger version of herself.

"This is Julie; she waited on a non-regular this morning. Could have been your brother."

Sam looked at her expectantly. "You did? What did he look like?"

Julie described Dean down to the leather jacket and boots.

"Do you remember what time he was here?" Sam asked.

"Not exactly, but it was before lunch. He sat at the counter." Julie nodded toward the stool at the end. "He was quiet. He had a couple cups of coffee, but only finished half the pancakes he ordered."

That didn't sound at all like Dean. Julie was young and pretty; definitely someone Dean would have noticed. And only eating part of a meal was a totally foreign concept for him. Sam wasn't sure which was more important to his brother; a pretty girl or a full plate of food.

"Did you happen to see what direction he went when he left?"

Julie shook her head. "Sorry."

"Thanks," Sam said, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

"Can I get you something to eat?" Clarice asked Sam as Julie walked away to begin clearing off the tables.

"No, thanks. I'll just pay for the coffee."

"Don't worry about it. It's not a big town, sweetie, your brother can't get into much trouble here."

Sam hoped she was right. Trouble had a tendency of finding the Winchesters whether they were looking for it or not.

After a few more sips of the coffee, Sam left the diner and headed around the corner to what passed for the business district. It was only about five blocks long and Sam saw a few storefront offices: a dentist, a lawyer, CPA and a real estate agent. He also saw some boutique stores and the sheriff's office at the end of the street. Beyond that was nothing but trees.

Sam didn't think he'd find his brother shopping, but he moved along the sidewalk, keeping an eye out anyway. He passed a couple clothes shops, an antique store and the biggest hardware store than he'd ever seen. He thought that might be a possibility, but then his eye caught an auto parts store. Sam decided to try there first.

It was another dead end. The man behind the counter had opened the store at 9:00 and hadn't seen anyone he didn't know all day. Sam made his way to the hardware store, but got the same answer from all of the employees he spoke with.

He looked up and down the street again and briefly considered going to the sheriff's office, but bringing Dean to the attention of law enforcement wasn't a good idea. They'd been taught from an early age to avoid the police, but now that the FBI had their scent, avoiding authorities was even more important.

Sam went back to the motel, but the room was exactly how he'd left it. He went to the office to ask the clerk if he'd seen Dean that morning, but got another disappointing answer.

Back in the room, Sam checked the phone book for hospitals and clinics in the area. He wasn't surprised to find the nearest hospital was in a town almost 30 miles away and there was only one local doctor. He didn't think it would do any good, but he called the doctor's office anyway. The receptionist assured him that no non-patients had come in, but she took his number and promised to call if someone matching Dean's description did show up.

Sam thought about the sheriff again. If Dean had somehow gotten in trouble, he would have been given a phone call and that call would have been to Sam. There was no reason to believe Dean would have been arrested and Sam decided against taking that particular step quite yet.

He stood at the window, looking outside and trying to figure out a next move. What if a demon had gotten control of him? Dean could be anywhere. And it wasn't exactly without precedent; Sam had been possessed by the demon they'd known as Meg. He'd been gone an entire week and had done horrible things before calling Dean….

But Bobby had given them something for protection against demon possession, Sam reminded himself. Whatever had happened to his brother, it had nothing to do with a demon.

Restless and with no other ideas, Sam left the room. He took another walk through town, stopping again at the diner to speak with Julie. He asked her different questions, but she hadn't magically discovered Dean's whereabouts. Sam left his phone number with the sympathetic waitress, but he didn't expect Dean to go back to the diner.

He walked through town, but didn't bother going into any of the other places he'd been before. He widened his search to include some of the side streets, but there wasn't much to be seen on any of them. He spoke to a few random people who were out, but none of them had seen his brother.

Worry coursed through Sam as he turned back in the direction of the motel. In the room again, Sam paced anxiously, listening to Bobby's phone ring. He was about to give up, when he heard Bobby's gruff voice on the other end.

"Hey, Bobby, it's Sam. How ya doin'?"

"I'm okay. You two get that zombie?"

"Yeah, it's taken care of," Sam said, still pacing. "You haven't heard from Dean, have you?"

"No. Should I have?"

"I…" Sam ran his free hand through his hair. "I woke up and he was gone. I've been all over town and a waitress at the diner saw him, but that's it. He left his phone in the room; his car is in the parking lot."

"How long has he been gone?"

"I don't know exactly; three, maybe four hours. All his stuff is here, Bobby."

"Now hold on, Sam. I'm sure there's a logical explanation. Did you ask the waitress how he seemed or –"

"She said he was quiet. He had two cups of coffee and half the breakfast he ordered."

"Dean left food on his plate?" Bobby sounded surprised. "How did it go last night? Did he get hurt or…?"

"No. I mean, the zombie was pretty nasty and we both got hit a few times, but he was fine."

Sam could feel his composure, what little of it he had, slipping away. Dean had never disappeared like this before and he had no idea what to do. He knew he shouldn't have bothered Bobby. The man was still recovering from a near-fatal car accident and didn't need anything else to worry about, but he always seemed to know how to handle impossible situations.

"Are there any hospitals or clinics where you are?"

"There's just a doctor's office. I called; nothing."

Sam heard a long sigh on the other end of the phone.

"What if something happened and he had to go into hiding for some reason? Which one of those complicated schemes you two have would he have followed?"

Sam chewed on his thumb for a few moments as he thought about it. "I'm not sure, but that's a good thought. I guess he could have gone out for food and….it just seems weird he would leave without his phone and….Lemme see what I can figure out."

"Call me in an hour; one way or another. You hear me?"

"I shouldn't have called you to begin with. You're supposed to be recovering."

"Goin' stir-crazy is more like it. Call me in an hour," Bobby said firmly.

"I will," Sam promised. "Thanks, Bobby."

Over the years, the brothers had developed scenarios for finding each other if they got separated. Some had actually started with their father, but they'd taken those and expanded them, adding more as ideas came to them. Some reasons for separation were incredibly specific and not likely to ever happen, while others were vague and left open to several situations.

As he considered his options, Sam paced in front of the window. His attention was drawn outside when he heard what sounded like a large vehicle going by on the street. He looked outside to see a Greyhound bus. It surprised him that a town so small would have a bus station, but the bus had gotten off the main highway for a reason.

Sam went to the motel office and asked about the station. The clerk told him that a bus came through a couple times a week and stopped outside the town's museum. The woman that ran the small museum kept the schedule and sold the tickets. After getting directions, Sam got into the Impala and drove to the museum.

It was a small building near the elementary and high schools, about five miles away from the business district where Sam had been looking. The bus was parked in the street adjacent to the tiny parking lot that serviced the museum. There were only a few people milling around and after making sure none of them was his brother, Sam went inside.

"Can I help you?" an elderly woman sitting behind a desk asked him.

"I was wondering about the bus. Has one already left today?"

"Well, yes. One left at noon, headed north. This one will be leaving in a few minutes, headed south. Are you looking to go somewhere?"

"No, ma'am. I'm looking for my brother. Maybe you sold him a ticket this morning?"

Sam couldn't think of one reason why Dean would buy a bus ticket and leave town, but he was running out of ideas.

"I only sold two tickets this morning. One to a local girl headed off to her grandma's house and the other to my own nephew. I'm sorry."

Sam nodded and glanced around. Knowing it was probably useless, Sam left his number with her. Like the others, she promised to get in touch if someone matching Dean's description came by. He got back into the car and headed toward the motel. On a whim, he drove to the sheriff's office instead, working on a cover story that would seem plausible and not cause any suspicion.

Sam found out that the sheriff was on a fishing trip and the chief deputy had been left in charge. Tad Johnson looked to be in his 30's and had probably been born and raised in town. He offered Sam a cup of coffee and a chair in front of his desk. Sam sat down, but declined the coffee.

"My brother and I got into town early this morning and got a room at the motel. We're on a road trip; just passing through. Thing is, I'm not sure where he is now. I know he was at the diner before lunch time, but no one seems to have seen him after that. He, uh, he doesn't usually wander off or anything, but…."

The deputy nodded sympathetically. "Well, he's not here and I haven't gotten any calls. I don't know what to tell you. He has to be missing for 48 hours before I can take an official missing persons report."

"Thanks. Will you at least keep an eye out?"

"Of course. I can do a little digging if you want."

"No," Sam hoped he didn't sound too emphatic. "Thanks. I, uh, I don't want you to go out of your way. He probably just wandered off to cool down."

"You two get into a fight or something? Looks like you might have taken a few punches."

"Yeah, a fight." Sam decided that was a likely enough explanation for the bruises and for Dean being gone.

"He'll probably be back soon, then. I'll give you a call if anything shows up here."

"Thanks," Sam stood up and shook the man's outstretched hand.

Outside, he leaned against the Impala and looked around. "Where'd you go, Dean? What happened to you?"

--

By early evening, Sam was completely panicked. He'd worked his way through several of the scenarios he and Dean had set up in case they got separated, but nothing panned out. He'd also wandered around town talking to everyone who gave him the chance. He'd called Ellen at the Roadhouse and spoken to Bobby several times. He was out of ideas. It was as if Dean had simply vanished off the face of the planet.

Sam had no choice but to expand his search radius. It made no sense that something had forced Dean to leave town while Sam slept in their room, but Sam couldn't ignore the fact that his brother was nowhere to be found. He hadn't been seen since having breakfast in the diner. A breakfast, Sam reminded himself, that Dean didn't finish in a diner he went to without his cell phone.

Sam forced down a sandwich and coffee at the same diner, trying to figure out his next move. He worked his way through several more of their separation plans and mapped out a direction.

--

It felt strange being in the car without Dean. Sam rarely drove the Impala, but almost every time he did, Dean was sleeping by his side. Sam turned on the radio, intent on finding a station that played the music he enjoyed, but stopped twisting the dial when he hit a classic rock station.

The thirty-mile trip seemed to take forever, but when he finally reached the next town, Sam followed the trails his brother would have left if he'd gone off on his own accord. He also checked the hospital and used the same story at this police station as he'd used earlier in the other town.

Over three hours later, Sam was exhausted and had no idea where to turn next. He called Bobby and Ellen again, but neither one had heard from Dean. Both had put a call out to people they trusted, but so far none of them had any leads.

For three days, Sam looked everywhere for signs of his brother. He barely took time out for sleep or for a meal; he talked to everyone he could think of and looked in even the most unlikely of places. He even tried a few supernatural rituals, but it was as if Dean had never existed.

oooOOOooo

"Hey there," the waitress hoped she wasn't smiling too broadly.

He sat down at the counter, a timid smile on his face. "Hi. Can I have some coffee, please?"

"Sure," she turned away to get the fresh pot. Still afraid she was appearing too eager, she forced a more neutral expression onto her face before facing him again.

This was the third time he'd been into the restaurant this week and Mindy wasn't sure if he was really just coming for the food or if he was attracted to her. He'd smiled at her and seemed to flirt, but when she returned the gesture, he'd freeze up. Not in a mean way, but more like he was overcome with shyness. Mindy couldn't believe someone so handsome would be shy, but sometimes it was hard to tell about people.

"Are you hungry? The pot roast is on special tonight. It's pretty good."

"Sure, yeah, that sounds great."

"Coming right up," Mindy smiled at him and walked into the kitchen. A half wall separated it from the main dining area and as she dished out the food, Mindy watched her customer.

It wasn't time for the dinner rush and other than old Jacob in his usual corner booth, the place was deserted. The owner, who also doubled as one of the cooks, had gone to make a bank deposit and the rest of the evening staff hadn't come in yet. Mindy knew she would have no better opportunity with the good-looking stranger than now.

She put a little extra food on the plate and headed out of the kitchen.

"Thanks," he smiled at her as she set the plate in front of him. "It smells great."

Mindy returned the smile. "Would you like something else to drink? A soft drink or a beer, maybe?"

"Uh, yeah, a beer. Thanks."

When she came back with the bottle of beer, Mindy leaned forward on the counter. "So, are you new in town?"

"Yeah," he answered stirring the gravy and mashed potatoes on his plate.

Mindy noticed the he was very diligently not looking at her. She glanced toward Jake to make sure he didn't need anything, then turned her attention back to the man in front of her. His worn leather jacket reminded Mindy of something the lead character in some motorcycle movie might wear. She'd noticed the silver ring he wore on his right hand the first time she saw him, as well as the unusual pendant hanging on a rope around his neck. His big hazel eyes looked empty and his handsome features were tainted with bruises from what looked like a fairly recent fight.

"Are you living here or passing through?" she was beginning to get the feeling that he might need help.

"I….I'm not sure yet."

"Oh, well….so, what do you do? For a living, I mean."

He looked at her, but she wasn't sure how to read his expression. He didn't seem to be annoyed, but he looked less than comfortable.

"Let me go check on Jake," Mindy said, making the quick decision that she was being too forward. He looked like he was about to bolt and instinct was telling her not to let that happen.

Mindy made sure her other customer was happy, then she found a few other things to take care of before going back to the counter. She saw that he was staring intently at the plate and that he hadn't eaten anything.

"Is there something wrong with the pot roast?"

He looked up, seemingly surprised. "No, it's fine. I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought I was. Sorry."

"No worries. Can I get you something else instead? Or maybe wrap that up for you to take with you?"

He looked at the plate, then back to Mindy. She thought he seemed confused.

"If you're staying at the motel down the street, you can put it in the refrigerator and eat it later," she suggested.

The stranger shook his head. "No, thanks. I need to go. What do I owe you?"

Mindy shook her head. She couldn't help but be a little worried about him. "No charge."

He nodded before quickly heading for the door. Mindy hesitated for a moment before following. She stood on the sidewalk and watched him and he practically ran down the sidewalk. She didn't notice the man across the street; he was also watching her customers escape.

"What was that about?" Jake asked when she walked back in.

"I don't know. He looked scared." She went behind the counter for the pot of coffee.

"Decaf?" Jake asked her as she reached for his cup a moment later.

"Yeah," she glanced distractedly toward the door.

"You know that boy?"

Mindy shook her head. "No. He started coming in a few days ago. I think he's lost."

"What do you mean?"

"He just seems lost,' Mindy shrugged.

Jake looked at her. "You're sweet on him."

Mindy studied the old man. She had no idea what his actual age was; it seemed like he'd been old her entire life. But his mind was as fresh as anyone. He'd been a judge until he retired longer ago than Mindy could remember and he still often gave lectures at the local community college.

"I'm old, but I'm not dead," he continued without prompting. "I saw the way you looked at him. He's a good-looking boy."

"Yes, sir, he is. But there's something going on with him."

"Yep. Might not be safe to get involved with him. For all you know, he's on the run from the law."

Mindy glanced at the door again as she heard it open and close. A family of four had come in and taken a booth.

"I don't think so, Jake," she said quietly. "I gotta take care of the new customers. You need anything else?"

"No, thanks, sweetheart."

She smiled at him and walked across the room.

--

He sat on the edge of the bed, head down and hands clasped. Something felt wrong; something felt very wrong. He thought about the pretty waitress at the restaurant. Her questions had been innocent, but he didn't have the answers. He didn't know if he lived in this town or was just passing through. He had no idea what he did for money. If he thought about it long enough, he'd realize that he didn't really know his name and he couldn't remember much past a few hours ago.

Before he could get that far, he stood up and began to pace. It felt like the walls were closing in on him and he was having a hard time breathing. He slipped out of the leather coat and tossed it onto the bed. He wanted help. He needed someone to talk to him, but he had no idea where to go or who to call. There should be someone….shouldn't there?

--

Mindy finished her shift and got her purse out of her locker in the back room. She didn't think about it for very long before she took out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Mountainview Lodge." She heard the familiar voice answer.

"Hey, Deborah, it's your favorite sister."

"You need a favor." The voice wasn't accusatory.

"Can you tell me if you have a guy staying there….short hair, light brown. He's maybe six feet tall; wears a leather coat?"

"Yeah, he checked in a few days ago. Why?"

"He's come into the diner a few times."

"I'm not helping you pick up a strange guy, Mindy."

"I'm not trying to pick him up," she protested. "Exactly. You get a read on him?"

"He's quiet. I haven't seen much of him since he checked in. I don't think he's let the maids in to do any housekeeping since he's been here, but I'm not sure about that. What's going on, little sister?"

"I don't know. I mean, at first I was flirting with him, but…."

"But what?"

"I think he might be in trouble."

"That's more reason to stay away from him, not find out where he's staying. Let it go, kid."

"Yeah." Mindy wasn't so sure she could do that.

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Away from the Sun**

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: See Chapter 1

oooOOOooo

If you could step into my head,  
Tell me would you still know me  
And if you woke up in my bed,  
Tell me then would you hold me  
Or would you simply let it lie,  
Leaving me to wonder why  
I can't get you out of this head  
That I call mine -

So I Need You, 3 Doors Down

oooOOOooo

The Mountainview Lodge wasn't as fancy as the name might imply. It was a standard small town motel and since the entire town was surrounded by mountains, the view wasn't particularly unusual. The rustic rooms were paneled in a light color and had paintings that depicted the old west. They'd been donated by a local artist before he went on to become a moderately successful illustrator.

Mindy's older sister, Deborah, had worked there since she was sixteen. She started out as a part-time maid while attending high school and now, at 25, was the assistant manager. She'd heard Mindy's tone on the phone and knew that her sister wasn't going to simply stop being curious about the stranger. Ever since Mindy had been old enough to walk, she'd collected strays. Homeless dogs and cats found a soft touch with her and even the occasional rabbit or bird would happen by for some of her attention. It didn't just stop with animals. She had a big heart and wanted to help whenever she could.

Their parents had wanted her to go to college to pursue veterinarian medicine or even psychology, but after they died unexpectedly on a vacation when Mindy was 15, she'd found it hard to move on. Deborah tried to encourage her, but once she realized that she was only managing to push her sister away, she decided to let Mindy make her own choices.

Lenore wasn't such a bad place to live and Mindy had a respectable job. Besides, she was only 20. There was plenty of time for her to go to school if she wanted to.

"I thought you'd show up here," Deborah said when she saw her sister walk into the motel office.

"I brought you a piece of Mabel's homemade apple pie."

"You can't bribe me."

"I'm not trying to. I know you can't tell me what room he's in. How did he get here? Does he have a car?"

Deborah closed the file folder on the desk in front of her and sighed. She leaned back in her chair and watched as Mindy pulled a stool closer to the desk.

"I haven't seen him get in or out of a car. You saw what was out in the parking lot."

Mindy nodded. "Jake was at the diner when he was there. Jake said he could be running from the law."

"Could be."

"I don't get the vibe from him. Seems more lost than running."

"Or maybe you want him to be that way since he's cute."

Mindy looked at her. "Nice, Deb."

"You said you were flirting with him. You noticed it."

"Yeah, but…." Mindy sighed. "I guess I can't force him to let me help."

"I really just wish you'd stay away from him."

"I have to wait on him if he comes into the restaurant."

"You know what I mean."

"I wonder if he likes apple pie."

"I thought you brought the pie for me."

Mindy slumped on the stool and looked toward the picture window across the room. "There he is."

Deborah followed her sister's gaze and sighed. There would be no stopping her now.

"I'll be back," Mindy slipped off the stool and rushed toward the door.

--

He didn't know where he was going, but the room had begun to feel too claustrophobic to him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should be somewhere else, though he had no idea where that might be. He wondered if anyone was looking for him and if there was, was it friend or foe?

As he walked out of the parking lot, he barely noticed the chill of the night air, but his hands found their way into the coat pocket seemingly on their own. He ignored the dark storefronts as he passed by, on his way to nowhere. He didn't see Mindy falling into step behind him, but somehow he knew she was there. She followed him quietly for more than a block before he suddenly turned to face her.

"What do you want?" he asked.

She didn't seem surprised or even startled. "Nothing. I just….I saw you leave the motel and….are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said and turned away.

"I don't think you are," she called out after him. "Let me help you.'

He stopped walking, but didn't turn around.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" she asked, not moving toward him.

His heartbeat quickened. Was he?

"How about we get a cup of coffee and just talk?" she suggested.

"You don't even know me," he said, without turning around.

"Yeah. Well, my name is Mindy. What's yours?"

He was about to answer when he realized that he didn't know.

"Just leave me alone, okay?" he begged, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He started walking again, desperation flooding over him.

He heard her footsteps behind him, but his legs were a lot longer and it didn't take much to outpace her. He turned a corner, frantic and afraid. He knew she was still behind him, but he didn't want to talk to her. Something told him not to let anyone get too close; he had no idea why.

Another corner took him further away from her and when he saw a park across the street, he checked for traffic before breaking into a run. Feeling safer surrounded by trees, he eventually stopped running and dropped to the ground.

He didn't know his name. He didn't remember coming to this town and had no idea how long he'd been here. He knew he was staying at a motel, so he probably didn't live here, but where _did_ he live?

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting against the tree, but he was cold and he wanted to sleep. His legs protested slightly as he stood up, but he was able to make his way back to the motel without incident. He slipped into his room, feeling marginally more secure than he had outside. The room felt safer than it had earlier, almost like a sanctuary, but that didn't change the fact the he knew nothing about himself.

Deciding a warm shower would stop his teeth from chattering he undressed and walked into the bathroom. For a while he just stood under the water, enjoying the warmth. As he began to rub the soap over his body, he saw scars from injuries that he didn't remember getting.

Who was he? What kind of person had this many scars? Why couldn't he remember?

Dried off and dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt he'd somehow known were in the dresser, he crawled under the blankets on the bed and reached for the wallet he'd left on the table. There was cash inside; a lot of it. Along with three drivers' licenses and credit cards with two different names on them. This was not the wallet of a law-abiding citizen.

He dropped the wallet onto the floor, dread flowing through his entire body. For all he knew, the pretty waitress didn't really want to help him. She could know exactly who and what he was – maybe they were even enemies. He wasn't safe here. Until he could figure out who he was, he probably wasn't safe anywhere.

Even though he'd slipped further under the thick blanket, he was cold again. He had to leave, but he didn't know where to go. He didn't even remember how he got here – did he have a car? He'd not found any keys in the coat pockets or anywhere in the room.

He turned onto his side and his hand slipped under the pillow seemingly on its own. It was as if he'd expected to find something there; something that would make him feel safer. But the space was empty and he became even more despondent. He wanted to just disappear; just cease to exist.

"Sam," he whispered.

A feeling of optimism began to warm him and he sat up.

"Sam," he said again.

Was that his name? No….

"Sam," he said it louder this time and his eyes widened. "Sammy!"

Excitement coursed through him as he threw his legs off the side of the bed. He ran to the dresser and tossed the unfamiliar clothes aside, looking for….for what? His cell phone! Where was his phone? His eyes darted around the room and when he saw the room phone on the table between the queen-sized beds he ran toward it. His breathing became shallow as he dialed a number he somehow knew and listened to the ringing.

SammySammySammy…. His mind chanted the name. He still wasn't sure whose name it was, but he was desperate to hear the voice that went with it.

oooOOOooo

It was late, but Sam wasn't sleeping. He hadn't really slept since Dean had gone missing nearly a week before. He was exhausted, but he had no choice but to keep going and trying to keep some logic in his search wasn't easy. He'd gotten a few morsels of information and followed up on them only to find himself at another dead end each time.

Sam was lying on top of the still-made bed trying to fool himself into getting a few hours of sleep. He heard his cell phone start to ring and he reached for it lazily, not bothering to look at the caller ID display.

"Hello?"

"S-Sam?"

The voice on the other end was soft and sounded almost timid, but Sam would have recognized it anywhere. He sat up and gripped the phone tightly.

"Dean? Dean, where are you?"

"Sam…."

"Yeah, Dean, it's me. Are you hurt?"

"N-no. I don't think so, anyway."

"Tell me where you are and I'll come get you."

"Uh….It's a town called Lenore."

Sam moved to the small table where he had a map of the area unfolded. He'd been tracing his route and making notes on it. The name sounded familiar, but he knew he hadn't been there yet.

"Hold on, I'm looking on the map. How long have you been there?" Sam asked as he turned on the light and searched for the town.

Dean didn't answer.

"Okay, I found it. I can be there in maybe three hours," Sam was relieved to know where his brother was, but frustrated to find out he was so close even though there'd been no sign of him. "Do you have a room?"

"Yeah, uh, the Mountainview Lodge. Room 34."

"Okay, I'm on my way," Sam threw the few things he'd taken out of his bag back in with one hand, his other holding tight to the phone. "You're safe? Is anything after you?"

"I….I don't know."

Outside, Sam tossed his bag into the back seat of the Impala and shoved the key into the ignition. "What do you mean, you don't know? Dean –"

"I don't know, okay? I…I don't know a lot right now."

"Dean, I don't understand." Sam said, confused.

"Let's just talk about it when you get here."

There was something in his brother's voice that worried Sam. Even when he was afraid, there was usually an air of confidence about him, but Sam didn't hear that now and it concerned him. Something told him not to push too hard; to wait until he could see Dean's face and assess the situation in person.

"Do you want to stay on the phone?"

"Just get here, okay?"

"I'm on my way. Don't leave."

--

Dean put the receiver back on the cradle and paced around his room. He knew who he was, he knew what he did, he knew why his wallet contained various forms of fraudulent identification….what he didn't know was why he'd left Sam in the first place and what he'd been doing since then. He was confused and scared; two emotions that Dean didn't do well with. But Sam was coming and they'd figure everything out. He could hold on for three hours.

--

Sam drove as fast as he dared and maybe just a little faster at times as he headed for Lenore. The last thing he needed was for a cop to pull him over – or even try to pull him over. His driving skills weren't as advanced as Dean's, but he could probably get away from a police car if he needed to. He just needed to get to Dean.

Sam couldn't imagine what had happened to his brother that would explain his disappearance and hearing Dean's voice hadn't made him feel better. He was scared. But of what? And why had he left to begin with? If something was after him then, Sam knew Dean wouldn't have left him behind. Nothing made sense, but at least he knew where Dean was. Sam just hoped he was still there in three hours.

--

"Dean?" Sam knocked on the door and called his brother's name softly. When there was no immediate response, he tried the doorknob, but the door was locked. He knocked again. "Dean, it's me. Open up."

He heard footsteps from inside the room, but the door didn't open.

"Dean," he knocked again. "Come on, man. Open the door."

From the corner of his eye, Sam saw movement in the window. When he turned, he saw the curtain falling back into place and a moment later he heard the sound of the deadbolt lock being disengaged. Finally, the door opened a crack.

"Sam?"

"Yeah. Let me in."

Sam couldn't see much through the narrow opening of the door, but he could tell the room beyond it was dark. He didn't think Dean was going to open the door any further, but before he could figure out his next move, he saw his brother's face peeking out.

"Hey," Sam said, struggling to keep his voice calm. "It's okay; open the door."

He saw Dean take a step backward and Sam pushed the door open gently. He walked inside, closed the door behind him and looked around. There was a little light coming through the window, but not enough to see any detail of the room.

"How about turning on a lamp, dude?" Sam asked. He could barely see his brother on the edge of one of the beds.

Dean didn't respond, nor did he turn on a light. Sam carefully maneuvered to the bed and sat down across from Dean.

"You're sure you're not hurt?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure."

Sam couldn't see his brother's expression very well even though they were sitting close together, but he could hear his voice. He couldn't remember ever hearing Dean sound so scared and Sam couldn't help but wonder if he was keeping the light off so to mask the fear on his face.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, man. Why'd you take off like that?"

"I….Sam, I don't know. I don't remember."

Sam felt cold. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't remember. I…..I don't remember leaving; I don't know how I got here. I have no idea what I've been doing."

"You have that charm Bobby gave us after…?"

"I have it. I'm not possessed, Sam."

"You mind if I judge that for myself?"

"Knock yourself out," Dean sounded tired.

"I'm turning the light on."

Waiting a moment for a protest from his brother, Sam reached for the lamp and flipped it on. He looked at Dean's face and saw the fear he had expected to see. He also saw confusion and exhaustion. He muttered the word _Christo_ as he pulled a silver flask from his coat pocket.

When there was no reaction from Dean, Sam held out the flask to him. Dean took it with a sigh, removed the cap and took a long swallow of the contents.

"Tastes like chicken," he said and smiled sadly.

Sam had considered sprinkling the holy water on him, but that seemed unnecessarily cruel. He was satisfied that his brother – and _just_ his brother – was sitting in front of him. The charms that Bobby gave them after Sam had been possessed were supposed to keep it from happening, but something had caused Dean's memory loss and his strange behavior.

"What's the last thing you remember before leaving?" Sam asked.

"Going to sleep in the motel after kicking some zombie ass."

Sam couldn't help but smile a little at his brother's choice of words. "What's the first thing you remember after that?"

Dean waved his hand. "This. I remember walking through some woods and then this room right before I called you. Other fuzzy things….I don't know, man."

"You don't know how you got here?"

"No."

"Do you know when you got here?"

"Credit card receipt is dated a couple days ago," Dean said, taking the receipt from the table and holding out for Sam.

"Have you talked to anyone since you've been here?"

Dean looked thoughtful. "A girl; waitress maybe? Damnit, I don't know."

Sam could hear the frustration in his brother's voice and he leaned forward a little more. "I remember what it felt like when it happened to me. Don't worry; we'll get to the bottom of what happened."

Dean said nothing. Sam wished there was something he could do or say to make this all right for his brother, but there wasn't. The only thing he could do was figure out what had happened in the days that Dean lost and what might have caused the memory lapse.

Sam saw Dean's eyes widen as he looked up. "Bobby. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He still has some recovering to do, but he's okay," Sam watched his brother closely. "I've been talking to him several times a day."

Dean nodded, relief clear on his face.

"I talked to him just a little while ago, actually. He probably wouldn't mind hearing your voice."

"It's late," Dean said.

Sam heard the uncertainty in his voice and was sure his brother wanted to talk to Bobby. He reached inside his coat pocket. "He's been worried about you, too, man. He would have been right out there looking for you if I'd let him. If he's asleep, he won't answer the phone."

Dean didn't protest when Sam pulled the phone from his pocket. He watched intently as Sam dialed the number.

"Hey, Bobby," Sam said when their friend answered. "I'm with Dean."

He glanced at his brother while listening to Bobby. A moment later he held out the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

Dean took the phone and Sam wasn't entirely sure his hand wasn't shaking. The beginning of an idea was forming for what might have caused Dean's memory loss. It was vague and he recognized it as something he'd learned in a general psychology class, but he knew he didn't have enough information to be sure.

Sam watched as Dean spoke with Bobby. Whatever Bobby said to him seemed to make him relax and a few minutes later, he ended the conversation and set the phone on the bedside table.

"You know," Sam began. "It's late and there's nothing we can do tonight. How about we get some sleep and start asking questions in the morning?"

"What if I take off again?"

"You won't."

"You don't know that," Dean looked at him sadly.

Sam looked around the room, then stood up and pulled the blanket and pillows from the bed he'd been sitting on.

"What are you doing?"

Sam didn't answer as he set about making a bed on the floor in front of the door.

"Sam…."

"You're going to have to get past me to get out of this room," Sam kicked off his shoes and sat down.

"You're not sleeping on the floor."

"I haven't slept in a week, man. I'm not going to even notice I'm on the floor."

Dean relented and a few minutes later, the brothers were under their blankets and the light was off. Sam didn't think either one of them would get much sleep even though they both needed it, but there really was nothing else they could do at the moment. He wanted to set up his computer and look into the idea he'd had, but he wanted Dean to sleep more than he wanted to research.

--

When Sam woke up a few hours later, he found Dean on the floor near him. He was safely wrapped up in a blanket from his bed and looked none the worse for wear. Sam got up and made his way to the bathroom, then set about making coffee. He wanted to get his computer from the car, but something told him not to leave Dean alone even for a moment.

Once the coffee was ready, Sam poured himself a cup and settled at the table that was situated in front of the window. He held the curtain open just enough to see outside. He knew the motel was a couple of blocks from the main street that ran through town. He'd seen on the map that the road was actually a loop that led back to a highway. He didn't remember there being much else around but the town and Sam idly wondered if there was some large employer nearby.

There wasn't a whole lot to see out of the window; the sun was shining and he noticed the deep blue sky overhead. There was a light frost on the ground, which meant that it was probably cold outside, but the room was comfortable. His thoughts turned to what he and Dean would need to do to piece together the last few days. He hoped that they didn't find anything like what had happened when Sam lost time. Of course, he'd been possessed, but that didn't erase the guilt he still felt over killing the hunter.

Sam heard Dean shift and looked toward him. His face was twisted into a grimace and Sam was sure he'd heard a quiet whimper. Before Sam could get to him, Dean started to thrash against the blanket and a moment later, he sat up calling out for their father.

Sam couldn't remember Dean ever waking up like that. He claimed to rarely dream and almost never remember them when he did, but Dean had clearly just suffered a nightmare.

"Dean?" Sam moved toward him carefully.

Dean looked around, then focused on Sam. His breathing was rapid and there was a sheen of sweat on his skin. Sam crouched down next to him. "You okay?"

Dean ran a hand over his face. "Yeah."

"What was the dream about?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing."

"You called out for Dad," Sam said gently.

Dean looked away.

It hadn't been very long since their father had traded his life for Dean's and Sam knew that his brother was still suffering. A lot of damage had been done to Dean's body by the Yellow-Eyed Demon that had possessed their father and the car accident that happened when Sam was driving to the hospital could have been fatal by itself. There had been no other way to save Dean's life and though Sam missed his father and the chance to mend their relationship, he would be eternally grateful to the man for giving him back his brother.

"It's okay," Sam said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Dean's voice was gruff and he stood up quickly.

"Dean…."

He ignored Sam and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

--

Dean leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on his face, then leaned against the counter and looked into the mirror. His skin was pale and there were nearly black circles under his eyes. It appeared as though he hadn't shaved in a few days and he rubbed the stubble on his face. He heard Sam call his name from the other room, but he didn't respond. He was afraid his voice would betray him and Sam was already worried enough.

Dean turned the water in the shower on and slipped out of his clothes. After the shower that didn't need to take as long as it did, he shaved using the supplies he'd apparently left on the back of the toilet. The bag was unfamiliar as well as the items inside, but he felt an unexplainable need to be clean-shaven.

Out of ways to avoid opening the door, Dean took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before reaching for the knob. Sam was sitting at the table, his laptop in front of him. He glanced at Dean as he walked across the room, but said nothing.

Dean stood in front of the dresser, having approached it as if by habit, but he couldn't bring himself to open any of the drawers. He somehow knew there were clothes in them, but he had no idea where they'd come from.

"You got the car keys?" he asked his brother.

"I brought your bag in when I got the computer. It's next to your bed."

Dean turned around with a muttered _thanks_.

"You want to go out for breakfast?"

Dean hesitated, his hand on his duffel bag. What he really wanted to do was get the hell out of this town and leave whatever had happened here behind. He'd begun to think that it wasn't really that important to find out what had happened anyway. Maybe it would be better just to go forward; go visit Bobby for a few days and make sure he was all right before taking on another case.

Dean saw Sam turn toward him from the corner of his eye and he concentrated on finding clothes in his duffel bag. He didn't like the feel of the sweat pants that he wore – they were something else he didn't recognize.

"Dean, please don't do this. Don't shut down on me."

He couldn't bring himself to say anything. He heard the concern in his brother's voice and he felt safer now that Sam was here, but he was supposed to take care of Sam, not the other way around.

"Dean?"

"I…." Dean sat down on the bed, his head down with his eyes firmly planted on the floor. He felt Sam sit down next to him, but he couldn't make himself look at his brother.

"Do you want me to go out and ask some questions on my own? I can –"

"No!" Dean answered, more vehemently than he'd intended. He looked at Sam, hoping his face portrayed the apology he couldn't voice.

Sam nodded. "Okay. How about I get cleaned up and we get started?"

"Okay," Dean said, feeling more timid than he could ever remember. "I – uh – I think I'll check on Bobby while you're in the shower."

--

Sam knew better than to push Dean to talk about anything before he was ready, but noticed he seemed slightly calmer after his phone call to Bobby. He thought it might be a good idea to get Dean to Bobby as soon as possible, but first he wanted to poke around town a little.

Normally completely in charge of any situation and comfortable taking the lead, Dean walked a few steps behind Sam as they headed toward the motel office. Even more disconcerting for Sam was that Dean hung behind him, almost as if he was trying to hide, when they passed through the door.

Sam smiled at the woman behind the desk. "Hi, my name is Sam Rollins. My brother, Dean, checked in a few days ago."

She returned the smile and glanced at Dean as he stood behind Sam. She looked somewhat confused. "What can I help you with?"

"Well…."

The brothers had talked about their strategy before leaving the room. Sam had suggested making up a story about Dean being sick and having wandered away from home, though he had assumed Dean wouldn't want something so seemingly embarrassing being told about him. To his surprise, Dean agreed with only a nod.

"See, the thing is," Sam continued after a brief hesitation. "He'd been really sick and just kind of….left home. And, uh, he doesn't remember coming here. I was wondering if there was anything you could tell me about when he checked in or….?"

"I wasn't here when he checked in; the assistant manager was covering the desk. Would you like to speak with her?"

Sam glanced at his brother, then turned his attention back to the woman. "If she's not too busy. Thanks."

"Just a second."

A few minutes after the desk clerk walked through a door behind her, another young woman came from the room on the other side.

"Hi, I'm Deborah Jenkins, the assistant manager. What can I do for you?"

Sam repeated his story and saw the sympathetic look she passed to Dean.

"Well, there isn't much to tell. It was raining and he came through the door soaked to the gills. He said he wanted a room for a couple of days and he gave me his credit card. I charged him for two nights and set him up. The next morning he came in and asked if he could stay longer, so I changed it to open-ended."

"Did you see where he came from?"

Deborah shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. A bus stops at the gas station down the street. I assumed he came from that direction, but I really couldn't say for sure. The bus only comes three times a week. And I, uh, I know he's had a few meals at the diner a couple blocks over. My sister works there and I know she's talked to him. Maybe she can tell you more."

Sam noticed some hesitation in Deborah's voice and wondered if it was simply due to not wanting her sister involved in what probably seemed like a very bizarre situation. He could appreciate that, but he also knew there was nothing for Deborah to worry about from them.

He looked at her with all the sincerity he could muster. "Thanks for your help. There hasn't been any trouble, has there? I mean, not that I would expect there to be, but –"

Deborah smiled, but she still looked uneasy. "No, no trouble. He hasn't wanted any housekeeping service, but there haven't been any problems."

"Thanks again. We might be sticking around for another day. Would it be all right for me to stay in his room?"

"Of course; absolutely. If there's anything you need, just let me know."

Sam nodded. "Thanks."

Outside, he looked at Dean. "See? No problems."

"Yeah, except that I can't freakin' remember how I got here."

"Dean," Sam began quietly. "Look, man, I know how you feel. I –"

"No, you don't!" Dean whirled around to face him. "You were _possessed_, Sam. I wasn't. I don't know _what _happened to me."

"I think maybe I do."

Dean looked at him with a mixture of hope and disbelief.

"I don't know for sure, but…."

"What?"

Sam sighed. "Let's go find something to eat and talk, okay?"

"Dude, come on, I –"

"I don't know if you've been eating regularly, but I haven't. I'll tell you what I suspect over breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever."

"I… I don't want to go to that diner. Not yet."

"Okay," Sam agreed, not willing to pressure Dean. "Well, how about we get in the car and find someplace else? We can even head over to the next town."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, okay."

They walked across the parking lot to where Sam had left the car. He fully expected Dean to demand the keys and to give the car a good once-over before opening the door, but was surprised when Dean stopped on the passenger side.

"You don't want to drive?"

"Nah," Dean shrugged.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Sam unlocked the doors and slipped behind the wheel.

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

**Away from the Sun**

Chapter 3

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: See Chapter 1

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who has read so far and to those who reviewed.

oooOOOooo

I'm not supposed to be scared of anything  
But I don't know where I am  
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted  
And nobody understands (how i feel)  
I'm tryin' hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs  
There's no one here to talk to  
And the pain inside is making me numb

Changes, 3 Doors Down

oooOOOooo

Mindy smiled at the stranger who walked into the diner. He sat at the counter and quietly ordered coffee. With only a small community college, Lenore wasn't the classic college town. It was also several miles off a major highway, but it had its share of visitors. The main street through town looped back to the highway and other than a truck stop, Lenore was the best option for gas and food. Certain times of year there, fishermen and hunters would also stay in and around town.

Mindy was used to seeing strangers mixed in with the diner regulars, but there was something about the man sitting in front of her that made her uncomfortable. There was nothing about the way he looked or dressed and he hadn't been in the place long enough to have said or done anything. Still, he made her uneasy.

She filled a coffee cup at his request and pointed out the menu before moving onto the next customer. After making sure that everyone one at the counter was happy, Mindy slipped into the kitchen where the other waitress was getting an order ready.

"Hey, you see that guy at the counter? The one with his head down?"

Linda glanced into the dining room. "Yeah. So?"

"He's kinda creepy."

Doug looked up from the sauce he was stirring. He was the owner as well as one of the cooks and he took a fatherly interest in his employees. "Did he say or do anything to you?"

Mindy looked at him. "No, but….I don't know. He just gives me a weird feeling."

Linda took a closer look. She was almost 60 and had been working in the diner most of her adult life. She had known Mindy's parents and had been a comfort to her and her sister after their parents' death.

"I can take the counter if you want," Linda offered.

"No, I can handle it. I just…I guess I just wanted you guys to know."

Doug nodded toward a tray of pastries that was on a nearby table. "Can you take those out to the front for me? Mabel just delivered them a few minutes ago."

"Sure, no problem."

As Mindy put the pastries into the display case, she kept an eye on the stranger. The place wasn't full, but there were several customers sitting at the counter and in the booths. The breakfast run was over and most were content with coffee and their newspapers, or with friends talking about current events. There wouldn't be much to do until the lunch crowd started to come in a couple of hours later.

Despite the other people around, Mindy still felt odd. As she cleaned and filled various containers with the appropriate condiment, she glanced at the stranger often. Every time his head was down and his hands were wrapped around the coffee cup. She refilled it for him twice and he'd nodded his thanks, but he'd not said an entire sentence since he'd come in.

Over the next half hour, most of the other customers paid their bills and left. It wasn't long before the stranger was alone at the counter.

"Can I get you anything else?" Mindy asked, trying to force her discomfort away.

"I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something."

Mindy hadn't noticed his accent before; she thought it was Scottish.

"I can try." She pasted a smile on her lips.

"I'm looking for someone; a friend. I lost track of him, but I think he might have come through here. Maybe you've seen him."

Mindy tried not to react, but somehow she knew who he was talking about.

"I don't know. We get a lot of people through here."

"It would have been recent; like in the last couple of days."

She listened to him describe the person he was looking for and it matched the guy she'd felt was in trouble. Something told her not to confirm it to this man, though, and she nearly always trusted her instincts.

"I don't know. Sounds familiar, but I'm not sure."

Finally, the man looked at her directly and she was struck by how cold his eyes seemed. They were a very pale blue, but it was more than the color that appeared off. It was almost as if there was nothing behind them; that she was looking at something devoid of life. She had to hold onto the edge of the counter to keep from taking a startled step backward.

"Really."

His tone frightened her; he seemed to know she was lying to him and something made her think this man already knew exactly where to find his _friend_.

"I wouldn't know where he is, anyway," she said, trying to smile.

"Huh," he pulled a few bills from his coat pocket and dropped them near his empty coffee cup. "Well, thanks anyway."

She watched as he stood and walked to the door. It wasn't until he was gone that she realized she was shaking.

oooOOOooo

Sam had headed toward the highway, knowing his brother wanted to get away from Lenore. There wasn't any reason they couldn't just take off for Bobby's, other than Sam wanting to find out what he could about Dean's activities in town while he'd been there. Dean seemed more than a little reluctant to ask any more questions after Sam had spoken with the assistant manager at the motel, but Sam thought it was important that they try to find out what Dean had been up to.

The next town was more than 50 miles north, but after seeing a billboard advertisement for a truck stop 15 miles away, Sam suggested they go there. Dean didn't argue, but he was far from enthusiastic about it.

Despite what Dean had said, Sam did know how he felt. At least a little bit. Even though when he'd disappeared, he'd been controlled by the demon they knew as Meg, Sam knew what is was like to be missing memories. He'd been awake for some of what Meg had done, but not all of it and there were things he would never remember.

Besides, he knew how much Dean needed to be in control and not having memories of the last several days had to be more than a little frustrating for him.

There tended to be a lot of silences in the car as they went from place to place, but they were generally comfortable. The brothers spent so much time together they could almost read each others' minds and sometimes there just wasn't a need for conversation. Other times there was, but they both avoided anything too painful.

This silence was different and Sam wasn't sure what to do about it. His normally fearless brother was crouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring at nothing on the other side of the window. Uncertainty radiated from him. Sam knew him better than anyone else in the world, but he didn't know how to help him.

What Sam suspected had happened to Dean was going to upset him even more than if he had been possessed. He was questioning his plan to stay around Lenore – again - to investigate when Dean sat up unexpectedly. Sam glanced at him, but turned his eyes back to the busy highway.

"Pull over," Dean said.

"What?"

"Pull over!"

Sam checked the rearview mirror for cars, and pulled off to the side of the road when it was safe. He put the car into park, but left the engine running.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, ignoring how fast his heart was beating.

Dean opened the door without a word and moved further off the road. Sam watched him for a moment before taking the key from the ignition and following him.

"What do you think happened?" Dean asked when Sam was standing next to him.

"You want to talk about that here?" Sam asked, looking around. He hadn't really been hungry when he suggested they talk over food, but standing on the side of the road had never crossed his mind.

The highway was tree-lined, but Dean must have seen the clearing while Sam was paying attention to the traffic. There had been plenty of room to park the Impala and where they stood and a few feet away from it, the road noise was manageable.

Dean slipped his hands into his coat pocket and nodded, not looking at Sam.

"I don't think it was supernatural at all," Sam began carefully, keeping his eyes on his brother.

Dean didn't react.

"I think Bobby's car accident triggered something for you. Something about Dad."

Sam saw Dean's jaw clench.

"The accident we had before –"

"We both know Dad didn't die because of that accident," Dean said quietly.

"I know, but seeing Bobby in that hospital bed…."

"I never saw Dad in the hospital. Remember? I was unconscious."

"Yeah, I know that, too." Sam kept his voice quiet and tried to keep any kind of emotion out of it. "Dean…."

"So, what? You think I went crazy or something and –"

"No, of course not. You didn't go crazy. It's just sometimes a really traumatic event can affect a person." Sam struggled to choose his words carefully.

"Thank you, Dr. Phil."

Sam had expected more venom from Dean, but it almost seemed as if he was resigned to the idea.

"So, like amnesia?" Dean asked quietly. He still hadn't looked at his brother.

"Something like that. I remembered it from a psychology class I took and I did some reading this morning while you were still asleep."

Dean nodded. "And?"

"Well, like I was saying, a traumatic event will sometimes affect people very extremely. Sudden travel away from what they know with no memory of their life; that's what I remembered from my class. It can last hours or days, sometimes longer. It's called a fugue."

"So, why did I remember again?"

"That's what happens. I can't really say I understand it all, but the pieces fit."

"Will it happen again?"

"From what I read, yeah, it could. Especially if you don't deal with what caused it in the first place."

"I've dealt with Dad's death," Dean growled.

"It hasn't been that long. Feelings are still raw, man. And I know how you feel about Bobby. I mean, I care about him, too, but –"

"Bobby isn't Dad."

"Of course he isn't," Sam said, knowing he had to tread delicately. "But you care about him. And if something happened to him so soon after Dad…."

Dean suddenly turned back toward the car. "I don't want to talk about this any more."

Sam sighed and followed a moment later. He got behind the wheel and, without asking Dean's opinion, continued on to the truck stop. Dean didn't complain and once they'd settled in a booth, he ordered bacon and eggs.

They sat in almost complete silence, but this time it was familiar and not particularly uncomfortable. Sam was worried about his brother; Dean would resist any kind of therapy, but Sam hoped that once they got to Bobby's, he would know someone they could trust. The crux of the matter wasn't just their father's death, but what had caused it. It wasn't just any therapist you could talk to about your father selling his soul to a demon.

"So, I was thinking," Sam started after their food had been delivered. "I can poke around on my own when we get back and see what I can find out. You don't have to –"

"Yeah, I do."

"We can hit the diner on our way back into town, then."

Sam saw his brother flinch. When he pushed the plate away with only half the food eaten, Sam wished he'd waited to bring up the subject.

"You want something else?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Finish eating; I'm going to the bathroom."

--

Dean still didn't want to drive when they left the truck stop. He reached for the volume control on the radio as Sam pulled onto the highway, but instead of turning up the music like Sam expected, he turned it down.

"The dream I had," he began, looking straight through the windshield. "I….It wasn't just about Dad."

"What else was it about?"

"B—Bobby. He was in the car with us. You know, after the demon had Dad? Bobby was in the back seat with me and that truck hit us….I don't remember the accident, but that's what happened, right? That truck t-boned us?"

Sam nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah."

"I woke up in the hospital and saw Dad making the deal. I guess that's when I called out," he seemed to shrink in the seat. "I don't know what happened to Bobby."

"It was just a dream, Dean," Sam said gently.

"Yeah, but Dad's gone for real."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "But Bobby's not."

"Yeah," Dean sighed.

"What's going on with you and that diner, Dean?"

"I don't know, Sammy. Just….every time I think about it, I get this weird feeling. What if I did something?"

"You didn't."

"You don't know that."

"Dean, you wouldn't hurt innocent people. No matter what happened to you, you wouldn't hurt someone who didn't deserve it. Let me go to the diner alone. I'll talk to the waitress and find out what she knows. You don't have to go in there if you don't want to."

"Yeah, I do, Sam."

"No, you don't!" Sam exclaimed, but quickly lowered his voice. "You don't. Look, man, just let me check this out for you, okay?

Dean said nothing, but from the corner of his eye, Sam saw him nod.

oooOOOooo

He was standing near the diner when the Impala rolled down the street. He watched as it was maneuvered into a parking spot and the driver got out. _Sam, _he thought and was taken aback when Dean didn't follow his brother. He figured that Dean would be taking off in another direction, but cocked an eyebrow when Dean stayed in the car.

He thought about watching Dean until Sam returned, but decided he should find out what the waitress was going to tell Sam. He wandered off the main street and positioned himself between the dumpster and the back of the building. A moment later, the body he'd been using was lying on the ground as a stream of black smoke quietly escaped. It didn't take long to find another vessel in the form of an old man who was just entering the diner.

"Hey, Jake," Mindy called from behind the counter.

He looked at her and smiled before taking his usual seat. She brought him a cup of coffee, then returned to the lone customer at the counter without the slightest notion that the man in the booth wasn't really Jake.

--

"So, he's your brother?" Mindy asked Sam.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I've been looking for him since he…well, he just _left_. And he doesn't remember why or how he got here. Did he say anything to you?"

"Not really. He came in here for the first time a few days ago. We talked a little." She looked away, seemingly embarrassed.

"What?" Sam prompted.

"Well, I…I thought he was flirting with me, but when I flirted back, he clammed up."

"I don't doubt he was flirting with you. I don't think he knows how _not_ to flirt," Sam smiled. "But what do you mean he clammed up?"

"Just that. It was like all of a sudden, something shut down in him. He wouldn't look at me, he barely spoke and he'd leave right away."

Sam was thoughtful. That certainly didn't sound like his brother.

"He was in here yesterday," Mindy continued. "I got the feeling he might be in trouble. It wasn't anything he said or did, really, just….a feeling."

Sam wondered how often she got similar feelings and how accurate they were, but he decided not to pursue that line of questioning. It might be interesting to find out, but had no relevance to his goal of finding out as much as he could as quickly as he could and get Dean out of town. His brother clearly didn't want to be here and Sam wondered if getting him back to South Dakota wouldn't be the best thing for him.

"I wish I could tell you more; I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head. He saw the sympathetic look on Mindy's face and knew that if Dean had let her, she would have helped him.

"I don't know why, but Dean is….he's nervous about coming in here. Did anything happen? Did he do something or….?"

"No; nothing like that," Mindy assured him. "He'd come in, eat a little, talk a little. Always alone and nothing ever happened. I was worried about him when he left here yesterday, though."

"Why is that?"

"He came in and ordered coffee, then agreed to the special. We started talking and I asked him a few questions – you know, like was he new in town or passing through. Innocent stuff. He got really upset and ended up practically running out of here. I felt horrible."

"It wasn't your fault. And, in a way, I think you helped him."

"How so?"

"I think that's when he realized something was wrong and it might have even prompted his memory to come back. He called me last night, after all."

Mindy nodded, a contemplative expression on her face. Sam glanced around, trying to think of some other angle that might provide the information he wanted.

"So, what will you do now?" Mindy asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"I don't know. I was hoping to find out more about what he did here or how he got here….We'll probably just head out tomorrow."

"I'd like to say goodbye to him; I'm working the early shift tomorrow; I come in at 6:00. You can have breakfast before you go."

Normally Dean would definitely be interested in breakfast before hitting the road, but Sam wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring. He didn't want to commit his brother to anything even though he thought it would be good for Dean to talk to Mindy.

"I can't promise anything."

"Sure," she said, sounding disappointed. "Well, if I don't see you, I hope things go all right. And I'm glad you found your brother."

"Thanks. So am I."

oooOOOooo

After taking back the body he'd been using and letting Jake go about his business, the demon wandered through town, going nowhere in particular. After following them for a while, he knew the brothers were now back at the motel. He could have easily eavesdropped on their conversation, he didn't really need to. He was sure that Dean would continue to sulk while Sam tried to pull him out of the sour mood. They might discuss other options for discovering Dean's activities since leaving Sam behind, but since the demon already knew what he'd been up to, there was no reason to expend the energy on spying.

He couldn't keep the satisfied grin off his face. Well, off the face of the poor bastard he'd possessed just over a month ago, anyway. He'd been wandering around for a while, not really doing anything and decided on the spur of the moment to take over a body. He'd clawed his way back out of Hell some time before and had been in and out of meat suits since then, but mainly just to get the hang of it again. He often preferred to have no constraints, but you never knew when it would be beneficial to possess a body.

It wasn't long before he'd run into Dean Winchester, quite by accident. The Winchesters were legendary, especially since John had agreed to sell his soul for Dean's life. He had been a little disappointed that Sam showed up so quickly. He'd been was enjoying watching Dean suffer alone, unaware of his real identity and open to all sorts of dangers. He'd seemed so….unlike a Winchester.

Dean's damaged psyche was no secret, but the nightmares he'd had while he was on his own had jolted even the demon. Dean's visions were darker and more frightening than the real Hell and he'd been trapped inside them night after night. He'd wake up, a scream on his lips, only to find himself in an unfamiliar place with vague memories of something terrifying.

During the day Dean tried to live a normal life, but at night he relived the bitter truth over and over. His only chance at a real life had been taken away when Azazel killed his mother. Ever since that night, Dean had been a freak and would always remain a freak. His only role in his dysfunctional family was to take care of his little brother while trying to be just like the father who barely paid attention to him.

At least that's the kind of thing that was going on in Dean's head. Not when he was awake so much, the demon noticed, but always when he was asleep. The demon knew that Dean dreamed about his father after Sam arrived, but the younger man's presence was definitely a calming influence. That dream had been more realistic, but had terrorized Dean much less. Of course he remembered it in more detail than the other ones, but often half-remembered dreams were more horrible.

The demon couldn't help but wonder if Dean truly knew what his deepest desires were. They had nothing to do with hunting and while he did honestly adore his little brother, they had nothing to do with Sam.

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

**Away from the Sun**

Chapter 4

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: See Chapter 1

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who has read so far and to those who reviewed. Everyone in the US, have a safe and happy July 4th!

oooOOOooo

_There's another world inside of me  
That you may never see  
There're secrets in this life  
That I can't hide  
Somewhere in this darkness  
There's a light that I can't find  
Maybe it's too far away  
Or maybe I'm just blind_

When I'm Gone, 3 Doors Down

oooOOOooo

After checking in with Dean and telling him about the conversation with Mindy, Sam headed off down the town's main street. He wanted to talk to some other people to see if anyone had had contact with his brother. At first Dean stayed behind, but it wasn't long before he was following close behind Sam. He refused to go into any of the stores with Sam, instead waiting on the sidewalk just outside the door.

Back in the motel room, Sam watched his brother. Dean was on the edge of his bed with his head down and his hands clasped between his knees. One leg was shaking in an uncharacteristically nervous way and he seemed nothing like himself.

Sam had found out nothing particularly useful in his trip around town. A few people had seen Dean, but no one had really spoken with him or noticed anything out of the ordinary. They had assumed he was just passing through town like so many other people.

The lack of information didn't surprise Sam. Even if he hadn't remembered being a hunter, Dean would have instinctually stayed away from people and kept a low profile. Sam thought it unlikely at this point that they would be able to trace Dean's movements and wondered if maybe getting Dean back to Bobby's was the best course of action. Besides, his brother seemed to be slipping deeper into a bleakness that scared him.

"Dean?" Sam called from the chair where he sat.

After a moment of hesitation, Dean looked at him. His eyes were wide; he didn't even try to conceal his unease.

"I, uh, I don't know what else there is to find here. I mean, it doesn't seem like you talked to anyone but Mindy and you didn't say a whole lot to her. Maybe we should just take off; head to Bobby's."

Dean nodded, noncommittally.

"What do you think?" Sam asked. He wanted Dean to make a decision, even if he had to lead his brother to it.

"I guess."

That wasn't exactly what Sam had in mind, but he wasn't sure if he should press Dean or not. He was so far out of his area of expertise and afraid that whatever he did might cause more damage. Sam knew his brother, though, and after a brief hesitation, Sam moved to the bed opposite Dean.

"What do you want to do?" Sam asked gently.

Sam knew what Dean wanted, but Dean looked at him almost as if he was afraid to admit it. He decided to give his brother an out.

"You know, Bobby is still recuperating. He might appreciate a little help around the place. Besides, it's been a while since the Impala has gotten a good once-over."

There was a slight change to Dean's eyes; he suddenly looked more like himself. Sam wasn't sure if it was the idea of visiting Bobby or having the time to work on his beloved car, but Sam didn't care.

"Let's head out," Dean said. Even his voice sounded stronger. "No reason to stay here another day; we can still make some decent time if we leave now."

--

Sam called Bobby while Dean was doing a quick check of his car. The old man sounded tired, but assured Sam he was feeling better. He also told Sam he was glad they were headed his way and had been set to insist upon it if they had other plans. He listened as Sam told him what he thought had happened to Dean, but didn't offer an opinion. He promised to check with some people he trusted to find someone who might be able to help.

Dean was behind the wheel when the brothers left Lenore. Sam noticed the further away they got, the more like himself Dean became. He could have done with a little less volume on the music, but it was worth it to see the look of solace on his brother's face. Besides, Sam knew why the music was up so loud – it was so they couldn't have a conversation. Sam was familiar with all his brother's tricks and knew if he gave Dean the chance, he'd slip behind his mask and pretend that everything was all right. He'd let Dean do that for the time being, but he was going to have to make his brother face what had happened. Whatever exactly that was.

oooOOOooo

The demon looked thoughtfully after the Impala as it headed out of town. He considered his options and decided to follow them without the body he'd become accustomed to. He didn't even bother hiding before exiting the body in a stream of black smoke. He stuck around for a few minutes to watch the reaction of the people who saw it happen, but quickly got bored. It was always the same. First there was shock, followed quickly by disbelief and then rationalization that it had been anything but what they'd really seen.

He didn't understand why Dean had made the decision to stop at the fast food restaurant. Maybe it had been at Sam's urging, but it wasn't like Dean was going to eat much. He hadn't really eaten since leaving his brother behind. He acted like he was going to and even went through the motions of ordering the food, but in the end, he would consume only a few bites.

Even with his brother across the table from him, the demon knew Dean wouldn't be able to eat like he normally did. Just because he couldn't remember what had happened to him or what he'd been doing didn't mean it wasn't eating him alive. The thoughts of his father and images of the torture he was probably suffering because of him replayed in his head over and over again, becoming more vivid and more painful each time. Those images had kept him from remembering his brother and continued to keep him from eating.

But it wasn't just what was going on with his father now that tore at his soul. It was what had happened with his father in the past. It was never feeling like he was good enough, that his only purpose in life was to take care of his little brother. The demon could see the love Dean had for Sam and guessed that Dean would have taken care of him no matter what the old man had said, but Dean had always felt the heavy hand of obligation as it nearly crushed him.

Despite all of this, Dean had loved his dad. He'd wanted to be like him and that was why, among other things, that he had started listening to classic rock. It was John's favorite music and Dean felt closer to him when he heard it. Gradually, though, he began to love it himself and not just because his dad did. He felt warm and safe in John's leather coat, but he'd stopped pretending that he felt John's arms holding him when he wore it. It still reminded him of his dad, but it was just a coat.

Sam wasn't wrong in his assumption. Seeing Bobby in the hospital after the near-fatal car accident had jarred something in Dean. He was struck with the polar opposites of his feelings for his father and his mind couldn't handle it. Dean loved his dad, but hated him at the same time and he collapsed under the weight of that realization. Not to mention being confronted with how he felt about Bobby had seemed disloyal to his father somehow. The man who had forgotten that his sons were not soldiers had given his life so that Dean could live and now Dean loved another man like a father. What kind of son did that?

The demon hovered unnoticed in a corner of the restaurant while watching the brothers. It was possible to go about undetected, but generally too difficult to do for very long. Just as he knew would happen, Dean ate half the burger he'd ordered and barely touched the fries. The demon was amused by the worry he saw on Sam's face. He could feel the fear coming from both of them and he relished in it. Road trips were a lot of fun.

oooOOOooo

"It's getting late," Sam observed after a couple hours of silence.

After stopping for food, they'd played one of the road games they sometimes entertained themselves with, but Dean had seemed to have a hard time concentrating while driving, so Sam made up an excuse to stop playing. Now he could see Dean's eyes drooping and he knew his brother was getting too tired to drive.

"I'm fine," Dean said.

"Let's just stop at the next place."

"I'm fine," Dean insisted through clenched teeth.

"I never said you weren't, but I'm tired of being in the car."

He saw the irritated glance his brother gave him, but it didn't bother Sam. He'd rather Dean get angry with him than fall asleep and drive them into a tree. It was fifteen miles before they got to an exit and Dean pulled off without prompting. Sam went inside the motel office to get them a room and when he got back to the car, Dean was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"We're in 115; around back," Sam said.

Dean parked in a spot near their room, but didn't move when Sam opened his door.

"Dean?" Sam paused to look at his brother.

Dean shook his head and reached for the handle. Sam saw him hesitate briefly, but a few minutes later they were both in the room. Sam wanted to crawl right into bed, but he sensed his brother's uneasiness and suspected that whatever else might be going on, Dean was still afraid he might wander off again. Without a word, Sam took the blanket and pillows from his bed and arranged them in front of the door.

"You don't have to do that," Dean said.

"I'm not doing it for you," Sam lied. "I don't want to wake up in the morning to find I have to chase you down again."

His tone was light and he forced a smile to his lips; Sam hoped Dean just accepted the gesture. For a moment it looked as if Dean would protest, but he only nodded and then proceeded to settle on the floor next to Sam.

An hour later Sam was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Another long day in a series of them, but Sam was too worried to sleep. He found some comfort in the sound of his brother's even breathing and he was glad at least one of them wouldn't be exhausted the next day.

Sam looked at Dean when he groaned and suddenly rolled onto his side. A moment later, Dean was on his back again and wrestling with the blanket. He made a sound like a whimper and his breathing started coming in gasps.

"Dean," Sam whispered turning toward him and putting a hand on his arm. He knew from experience that sometimes it was best to let a dream play out until the end, but he hated the thought of his brother being in any more pain than he already was. "Dean, hey, wake up."

Dean pulled away, almost angrily, and muttered something Sam didn't understand. Sam got onto his knees and tried again to calm his brother. Dean moaned, still thrashing under the blanket.

"Dean," Sam said with more force. He knew that Dean tended to respond better to an authoritative voice than one that was gentle. It made perfect sense, considering how their father often spoke to them when they were growing up. "Wake up, Dean."

The older man's eyes fluttered open and for just a moment, Sam saw the uncertainty in them. It didn't take long for Dean to recover and slip behind the walls he'd so carefully constructed over the years. Sam recognized it immediately and as it always did, seeing it happen made him sad. It wasn't that he expected Dean to share everything with him; he certainly had his own secrets, but he wished Dean didn't feel the need to hide from him. He realized the only reason he was allowed behind some of the walls was because he'd been there when they were constructed, but he'd also managed to find the secret entrances into some others.

"You were dreaming," Sam said simply. His heart was beating much faster than his calm voice relayed.

"Sorry I woke you," Dean said, his voice gruff. He glanced at Sam. "Did I say anything this time?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't understand it," Sam sat cross-legged on the floor. "Do you remember what you were dreaming?"

"I don't need a Dr. Phil moment," Dean said, though he matched his brother's position on the floor.

"Why do you do that?" Sam asked, exasperated. "I mean, I get why you do it with other people, but I'm your brother. I know when you're hurting and you just shut me out."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Dean, I'm sorry, but you're not. You've lost a week of your life, you're afraid you might wander away again, and you're having nightmares that I can tell are freaking you out. Come on, man. If you can't talk to me, who can you talk to?"

Sam saw the struggle of emotions on Dean's face and he waited.

"It's hard," Dean whispered, his eyes on the floor. "I've always had to be responsible and strong. I don't know how to ask for help."

"You don't have to ask, Dean. I'm offering."

"What good does it to do talk? It won't change anything. Dad is still dead; he still treated us more like soldiers than sons….Talking won't bring him back and it won't give us a different childhood."

"Dean…." Sam wasn't used to being in the position of defending their father, but despite their rocky relationship, Sam never doubted their dad's love. It wasn't until recently that he'd realized Dean did sometimes question it. "Dad did the best he could, man. He was in an impossible situation and –"

"It doesn't matter, Sammy."

"Yeah, it does. Tell me about your dream. Was it about Dad?"

Dean glanced at him, uncertainty coloring his face.

"It helps to talk. After Jess died and I was feeling so guilty….those dreams….you wanted me to talk about them. If it was good for me, it's good for you."

Dean smirked. "You think so, huh?"

"I went to college, remember?" Sam joked.

"Yeah, but you slacked off and didn't graduate."

Sam saw the small sparkle in Dean's eyes and the hint of a smile on his face. It suddenly hit him how much he missed his brother.

Dean took a deep breath. "I honestly don't remember much about the dream; I think I've been dreaming a lot lately, though. And I don't know, but I get the feeling some of them have been pretty messed up."

"Like how?" Sam asked, grateful Dean seemed to be opening up a little.

"I don't know….scary. But…" Dean shook his head.

"But what?" Sam prompted.

"I've never thought much about getting married or having a family, but this one dream….there's a girl and I get the feeling we're together, ya know? And it….it feels nice."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Dean."

"It can't happen," Dean said firmly. "Not with what we do."

"That's not necessarily true. And besides, we don't have to do this forever."

"I don't know how to do anything else."

"Now I know that's not true," Sam insisted.

"I don't know how to live in a house or be just a regular person. I know how to hunt and exorcise demons and –"

"Don't sell yourself short, man. If you want to live in a house and be a regular person, you can do it. I know you can."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't really matter. What girl is gonna want to settle down with someone like me?"

"I don't like it when you put yourself down that way, Dean."

Dean shrugged, but said nothing.

"You know," Sam ventured. "Maybe your dreams are trying to tell you something. Maybe you really do want to find a girl and settle down some day."

"What about the bad dreams? Are they trying to tell me something, too?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. He thought about it for a few moments before saying anything. "They probably are, Dean, but maybe not literally."

"Here comes the psycho-babble."

"Hey, you asked," Sam smiled.

"Hit me, college boy."

"You're fighting with yourself. You might want something that you aren't letting yourself consider. So, you have nightmares – they aren't literal, but represent the conflict you're feeling. And the dream about living with a girl in a house….that might not be literal, either. Maybe you don't necessarily want the house and the suburban lifestyle, but you do want one person who loves and accepts you for what you are."

"I'm getting a headache from all this sugar."

Sam heard what Dean said, but also saw the thoughtful expression on his face - he wasn't completely discounting what Sam had told him.

"So what does all this have to do with Dad and Bobby?" Dean asked after a few minutes

"I don't know, Dean. Maybe it's just time to face how you really feel about a lot of things."

"I don't think I want to do that."

"You may not have a choice. You took off and you don't remember why or what you did….Dean….look, I wasn't going to say anything yet, but, well, I talked to Bobby earlier and he knows someone who can help. He's a psychiatrist and he was a hunter until he lost his arm in a fight with a vampire. He's going to meet us at Bobby's in a couple of days."

Dean looked down at the floor.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"I….were you just going to spring this on me when the guy walked into the house?" Dean asked, still not looking at Sam.

"I was going to tell you once we got to Bobby's."

Dean nodded.

"Come on, man. You know I wouldn't do that to you. I just didn't want you to refuse to even go to Bobby's."

Dean seemed to close up as Sam watched; he almost seemed smaller and Sam didn't like it at all. When Dean laid back down and pulled the blanket tight around him, Sam thought he'd made a mistake in telling his brother about the doctor. He tried to think of something to say; the sudden tense silence of the room was disturbing.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"If I find out something I don't like….will you…?"

"You're my brother, Dean. No matter what."

oooOOOooo

The demon moved away from the motel in an unnoticed stream of black smoke. Things were going to be considerably less fun if Dean started opening up to his brother. Then again, Dean had been hiding a lot – not only from Sam but from himself – and it would take a long time to work through it all.

The demon knew that Sam would probably never find out where his brother had spent the majority of the week they'd spent apart. It wasn't something that Dean was going to want to pursue any time soon and by the time he might be ready, the trail would be cold. His memory of the events would never return because that's just how these things worked. But the demon knew where Dean had been. The demon knew what Dean had done and how it had made him feel.

Humans weren't necessarily the demon's favorite thing, but he had to admit that hanging out with Dean was turning out to be a lot of fun….

--

_Dean walked into the bar full of confidence. He ordered a beer and stood facing the room. The inside was nicer than he'd expected from the worn exterior, but it was still a standard working class place and he immediately felt comfortable there. _

_He saw a pool table near the back of the large, mostly open room with a group of intense-looking men around it. Clearly this was an important match. There was another table on the other side occupied by young women who didn't seem at all serious about the game. Dean thought that was the more interesting group to watch. _

_There were five of them; four tall blondes in short skirts and full make-up along with a petite brunette. She was wearing jeans and a loose-fitting sweater and Dean didn't think she even had on foundation. He could hear her laugh over the others, but it wasn't loud or obnoxious. It was almost musical and Dean found himself paying more attention to her than to her more stunning counterparts. _

_After a few minutes, she approached the bar and ordered five beers._

"_Need some help carrying the drinks?" Dean asked, showing her his most impressive smile. _

_She looked uncertain at first, but returned the smile and nodded. "Sure, thanks."_

_They walked over to the pool table together and Dean helped her pass out the beer. Her friends flirted with him and he ended up coaching them with their game for a while. None of them improved, but they didn't seem to mind; especially after a few more drinks. _

"_Are you the designated driver?" Dean smiled at the brunette after relinquishing one of the pool cues to a tipsy blonde. He'd noticed she wasn't drinking as much as her friends._

"_Not quite. I'm the designated cab caller."_

"_There's a lot of responsibility in calling a cab," Dean said earnestly, though his eyes sparkled._

_She smiled. "I think I can handle it."_

_They sat quietly, watching the others play pool….or attempt to play while they consumed beer. _

"_Your friends don't seem all that serious about their game," Dean commented._

_She looked toward them and shook her head. "They never are. They'll get bored soon and turn the table over to people who really know how to play. Then they'll start flirting with guys and giving out fake phone numbers."_

"_Good to know," Dean nodded. "It sounds like you don't really want to be here."_

"_We come here almost every Tuesday because it's half-price beer for the ladies," she rolled her eyes as she said it. "I'm usually here just to make sure they don't get into too much trouble."_

_Dean looked at her – she reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite place it._

"_Hanging out in bars isn't really my thing," she continued unprompted. "I like movies, books…not that you asked."_

"_You didn't give me a chance."_

"_So, why aren't you trying to pick up one of them?" she asked nodding toward the pool table._

"_I'd rather talk to you."_

_She turned her eyes toward him, surprised. _

The demon watched, surprised himself. This surely wasn't the great Dean Winchester he'd heard about. This girl was pretty, but certainly not his type. She was bookish, for Pete's sake! Her friends were tall and blonde; they would probably have sex with him just because and he was focusing on the little brunette who likes to read! He could talk about books with his brother.

But there was something off about him. Dean had the swagger and the cocky attitude the demon would have expected, but something was missing.

"_What kind of movies do you like?" Dean asked. "Let me guess; artsy foreign films?"_

_She pretended to be offended. "Seriously? That's what I look like?"_

_Dean shrugged, a smile on his lips._

"_Okay, I watch some artsy foreign films, but mostly I like horror and action."_

"_Horror and action, huh? Well, then, maybe we'll have to see a movie together."_

_She said nothing._

"_My name is Dean," he said after a moment._

"_Lindsey."_

The demon didn't have to be in the same room to hear what was going on with Dean and his new friend, but he couldn't resist hopping into a body and moving closer. He could move about relatively undetectable by most people, but hunters were more sensitive to supernatural creatures. He felt almost like he was throwing himself at Dean and was a little disappointed that the hunter seemed not to notice him.

Lindsey kept an eye on her friends, but settled in with Dean as they talked about movies for a while. Something still seemed strange about him and the demon wondered where Sam was, but he supposed the brothers weren't exactly tied at the hip.

The longer Lindsey and Dean talked, the more strange the demon thought it was. Of course Dean wasn't going to tell her what he did for a living, but the demon was surprised he didn't just avoid the topic completely. Instead, he talked about being a mechanic and hoping to one day own his own garage. Where was that coming from? Sure, Dean's love of cars was obvious and his father had owned a garage, but what an interesting lie.

The demon continued to listen to their conversation, trying to reconcile what he knew about Dean to what he was telling this girl. He also kept wondering why _just _her when there were so many others around. The Dean Winchester he'd heard about was a player, not someone who hung out in a corner with the wallflowers. Curiosity finally got the best of him and the demon reached out to find out what he could.

Not all demons could necessarily read minds, not that that was exactly what he was doing. He was able to sense what was really going on inside a human; to see past the persona he or she showed to the world. There were different layers, depending on how deep he wanted to go. Generally, it didn't take much probing to get to the truth. But what he picked up from Dean shocked him – there was _nothing_ past this persona. The mechanic who wanted to own a garage someday was all that existed.

The demon kept going; he pushed past layer after layer of blackness to find the _real_ Dean, but as he did, the man sitting in the bar became more and more uneasy. The demon decided to wait until later to go any deeper and once he'd stopped probing, Dean was comfortable again and he went back to impressing Lindsey.

She got her friends safely into cabs at the end of the evening, then left the bar with Dean. She lived only down the street and they walked while holding hands. The demon followed, having left behind the body he'd borrowed. He watched as they settled on the couch in her apartment with soda and was surprised they were still there – talking – when the sun came up.

Lindsey got a pot of coffee started, then left Dean to his own devices while she showered. Most of the furniture was old, but the entertainment center was well-stocked with top-notch electronics. He spent a few minutes looking around the living room, picking up random objects for closer examination. She had few knick-knacks, but several pictures of who were probably family members and friends.

Dean, and in turn the demon, had learned that Lindsey normally attended school while working as a legal secretary at a local law firm. The girls she'd been at the bar with were friends from work, but in addition to their weekly outing, Lindsey socialized with them frequently when classes weren't in session. She was a pre-law major, on a break between semesters.

She'd grown up on a farm in southern Wisconsin, but her mother sold it after her father's fatal heart attack two years before. Her mother now lived in Florida and they didn't see each very often. Her older sister was studying to be a doctor at a university in the northeast and Lindsey didn't see her much, either.

Lindsey found Dean sitting at the kitchen with a cup of coffee when she came in dressed for work.

"_I hope you don't mind," Dean smiled as he held up the cup._

"_Of course not. Do you want a bagel? That's about the extent of the food I have here at the moment." She didn't wait for an answer and took the package from a cupboard._

_Dean stood up and took it from her. "Let me do that. Sit down and enjoy your coffee."_

_She looked at him, surprised, and smiled. "Thanks."_

"_What time do you have to be at work?" Dean asked as he sliced two bagels and slipped the halves into the toaster. Lindsey got cream cheese from the refrigerator, then filled a mug with coffee before settling at the table._

"_Normally I don't have to be there until 9:00, but my attorney has clients coming in early," she laughed. "God, I can't believe we were up all night talking."_

"_Yeah," Dean leaned back against the counter and smiled at her. "I'm sorry about that."_

"_Sorry? Why?"_

"_You have to work; you're gonna crash before noon."_

_She waved a hand. "I'll be fine. So, what about you? You don't have to work?"_

Yeah, Dean, the demon thought. Don't you have to work?

"_I don't actually have a job yet. New in town, remember?"_

Brilliant!

"_So, what are you going to do today?" she asked._

_Dean didn't hesitate. "I thought I'd go around to a few garages; see if I can pick up some work."_

The demon watched as Dean spread the cream cheese onto the toasted bagels and put them onto a plate before sitting next to Lindsey. He really didn't understand what was going on and couldn't wait for Dean to settle down so he could do some prying. He didn't need Dean's permission, but it might be easier to get the information he wanted once Dean was alone.

"_Why don't you come over tonight for dinner?" Lindsey suggested._

"_Are you serious?"_

"_I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't. It won't be fancy, but it will be edible."_

"_Who could ask for a better offer?" Dean grinned._

_Lindsey returned the smile before starting on her bagel._

Dean asked her a few questions about her job and while the demon listened disinterestedly, Dean seemed fascinated. Either all those stories the demon had heard over the years were lies, or there was something really wrong. The demon hoped it was the latter.

"_Well, I need to get going," Lindsey said as she stood up._

"_I'll walk out with you."_

"_Why don't you come back around 6:00?" she suggested. _

"_Can I bring anything?"_

If the demon had eyes, he would have rolled them. This really was getting to be too much.

"_Bring some beer."_

"_I think I can handle that."_

_They paused outside of Lindsey's apartment door while she locked it. As if they'd been together for years, their hands entwined as they headed for the front entrance of the building. Her car was parked a block down the street and as they walked, they talked. _

"_Can I drop you somewhere?" Lindsey asked._

"_Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though."_

_Lindsey leaned back against her five-year old hatchback. "Hey, Dean?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You ever gonna kiss me?"_

_Dean smiled, then held her face gently in both hands. She was a good five inches shorter than him, so it he had to lean in quite a bit. The kiss began timid, but quickly grew. When Lindsey pulled away a few minutes later, she was flush and out of breath._

"_I….I have to go to work," she said._

"_I'll see you tonight."_

_Lindsey nodded and got into her car. Dean leaned through the open window and kissed her again._

The demon followed Dean down the street. Surely the Impala was parked nearby. He was taken aback when Dean paused at a bus stop and read the schedule hanging on the pole. Fifteen minutes later he was on a bus headed across town.

He waited until Dean was more relaxed to start probing, but had barely gotten through the layers of darkness when he found something unexpected. Dean totally and completely believed the lies he'd told Lindsey. He thought he was a mechanic who had dreams of owning his own garage. He thought he'd gotten tired of the small town he grew up in and had left, wanting a change. He had no doubts that his parents lived in the mid-west, that they spoke on a weekly basis and that his younger brother was going to school in California.

The demon felt Dean's discomfort and backed away, content to watch for a while and think about what he'd learned so far. Dean got off the bus and walked into an old motel, after stopping at a paper box for the morning newspaper. He unlocked a door on the second floor and walked inside, feeling completely content. He looked through the classified ads and made a couple of calls before getting into the shower.

The demon followed Dean when he left the motel, dressed in clean clothes. He got onto another bus and ended up at a garage a few blocks away. All the car talked bored the demon, but he couldn't help but be impressed with Dean's extensive knowledge. The manager hired him on the spot and told him to report the next day at 7:30.

Back in the motel room, Dean felt at ease. Even though the demon had seen that Dean believed his lies to Lindsey, he was surprised that the hunter took no precautions in the room. There was no salt and no protective symbols. With nothing to keep him out, the demon floated unnoticed into the room and settled in to watch.

Dean kicked off his boots and slipped out of his coat, hanging it carefully over the back of a chair. There was a small kitchenette in the room and Dean studied the meager contents of the refrigerator before pulling out a soda and sitting down on a worn couch. After a few sips of the drink, he stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes. He was asleep a few minutes later.

The demon knew this was the best chance he would get to slide into Dean's memories undetected. He zipped past the now familiar darkness and back through the things Dean had said to Lindsey. There were more similar untrue recollections – thoughts of a woman he'd dated for a couple of years, his high school graduation, prom, baseball and soccer games, and even childhood illnesses. The demon saw visions of Dean's parents; including the mother the demon knew to be dead. Dean had memories of her all throughout his life that were impossible.

As Dean slept, unaffected by the examination, the demon probed deeper. He worked his way past more memories he knew couldn't be real and then into another area of darkness. This one was somehow even bleaker than the others and the demon paused, a strange sensation coursing through him. He'd never experienced anything so odd before; it was almost as if he'd gone from the mind of one person into another, though he knew so such thing had occurred.

Carefully traversing the void he'd discovered, the demon finally found himself in another flood of memories. What he saw here was more in line with what he knew about the Winchesters. He saw that Dean's life had begun happy enough; he was loved and cared for by parents who adored him. He'd been confused when they told him that he was going to become a big brother, but he listened to what his mom and dad told him about what it meant and soon came to love the baby that hadn't even been born yet. Once Sammy had been brought home from the hospital, Dean doted on his little brother. He'd stand at the crib and talk to Sam for hours, whether the baby was asleep or awake. Dean was happy to sit close to his mom when she rocked Sammy and felt safe and secure on his dad's lap when he would cuddle with both of his sons.

Even though it had been locked very far away, Dean still remembered the details of the night his mother died. Probably not consciously, but the memories were still there. He had been awake when Sammy started to fuss and was about to join their mother in the nursery when he saw her walk past his room going in the opposite direction. He saw her race back toward his brother after only a few moments and then heard the scream….he didn't know what to do and before he could make a decision, his father ran past his bedroom. Whatever had happened, Dean was sure his dad would take care of it.

But then Dean had begun to hear a strange crackling noise and heard his dad call his mom's name. Little Dean had made his way down the hallway, feeling it get hotter the closer he got. The image of the fire was still vivid in Dean's mind even though he hadn't gotten a good look at the flames. Before he could really see what was going on, his dad had thrust the baby into his arms and told him to run. Dean had been stunned at first, but he always did what his dad told him to do and he sensed that it was more important this time than any other.

The days after the fire had been horrible for the little boy. He didn't understand where his mom was or why his dad was so sad. Sammy cried a lot and they weren't living in their house. Dean had felt alone, but was able to get solace from his little brother. He loved being able to make the baby laugh and soon it would make him feel better, too.

For a while, after he realized that nothing was going back to the way it had been, after his dad had finally been able to explain things to him, Dean didn't play with Sammy much. He didn't feel like talking and he spent a lot of time by himself. But he'd still rush to the baby's crib when he cried and sometimes he would crawl into the crib at night when their dad was asleep.

Gradually he got used to the new arrangement, but then his dad started acting even more strange. Later, the adult would realize that had to be when his dad was first learning about the supernatural and the thing that had killed his mom, but the little boy remembered it was as if the rug had been pulled out from under him again. Dean felt no security, except with his little brother. And then one night, their dad rushed them out of the house where they'd been staying….Dean became even more sullen and somehow knew this was what his life would be from then on. There'd be no real home, he'd get only sparse attention from his dad and he'd be responsible for taking care of Sammy.

But along side this sadness, the demon saw other things. Dean may not consciously remember the more tender moments with his father, but there had been many. Granted, as the boys got older and John became more aware of the dangers they'd face, he got harder. He pushed them beyond their limits, but he also made them feel loved. Dean knew that. It was deep within the recesses of his memories; well past places Dean wouldn't revisit, but his father's love was still part of him.

The demon almost felt bad for Dean; there were so many good memories hidden not only under all of the bad ones, but those that were inaccurate as well. There were many things Dean had misunderstood as a child, things his father had left without explanation. So many misunderstandings….

But through it all, there was Sam. Well, except for his time at Stanford. Those memories were floating around inside Dean's head, too. He'd been proud of Sam for standing up for what he wanted, but felt betrayed by him as well. And Sam's leaving meant Dean was alone with their father….except that their father had stopped paying real attention to him years before. He may as well have been alone because that's how Dean had felt after Sam left.

The demon sensed that Dean was waking up and he retreated to a corner of the room to watch. Dean sat up, obviously uncomfortable. He looked around as if he knew he wasn't alone, but after a moment he shook off the feeling and stood up.

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

**Away from the Sun**

Chapter 5

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: See Chapter 1

**A/N: **This chapter peeks at the kind of relationship Dean secretly wants to have and what kind of life he might have lived without hunting.

Thanks for sticking with me on this one. I do enjoy psychologically torturing that boy….

oooOOOooo

_They gave me a life that's not so easy to live  
And then they sent me on my way  
I left my love and forgot my dreams  
I lost them along the way_

I Feel You, 3 Doors Down

_I guess i just got lost  
Bein' someone else  
I tried to kill the pain  
Nothin ever helped  
I left myself behind  
Somewhere along the way  
Hopin to come back around  
To find myself someday_

Let Me Be Myself, 3 Doors Down

oooOOOooo

_Dean took the bus back to Lindsey's side of town and walked into the grocery store across the street from the bus stop. He picked up some beer and on his way to the register detoured to the small floral department. He chose a single white rose and after paying for everything, walked to Lindsey's building._

_She opened the door after he knocked, a broad smile on her face. _

"_Hey."_

"_Hey," she moved aside and Dean walked in, pausing to kiss her gently._

_Feeling completely at home, Dean put the beer into the refrigerator and glanced around the kitchen. "Smells good in here."_

"_Thanks; just a simple little lasagna," she leaned on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Old family recipe."_

"_Are you Italian?"_

"_No; French. Or Swedish. I don't really know," she laughed._

_Dean leaned against the counter from the kitchen and held out the rose. Lindsey took it and smiled. "Thank you."_

"_Does beer go with lasagna?" Dean asked._

"_Beer goes with everything. Hand me one?"_

_He opened two of the bottles and then joined Lindsey in the living room. She pulled a vase from a small cabinet and once the rose was safe in water, she sat on the couch next to Dean. _

Their evening consisted of eating, talking, laughing and kissing. There was music coming from hidden speakers; a mix of genres that included everything from jazz to classic rock. The demon had expected more of a reaction from Dean to the music he'd always enjoyed, but after only the briefest of pauses when one of his favorite songs would begin, there was nothing. He would turn his attention fully to Lindsey, who didn't notice anything had happened.

The more the demon saw, the more he learned with his subtle probes, the more confused he became. The person in this apartment with Lindsey was not the hunter the demon had heard about all these years. This man was nothing like the Winchesters who had impressed the underworld. On the surface, this man seemed to know nothing of the supernatural world, but the demon knew the knowledge was still there. It was buried beneath layers of darkness and lies, but it was there.

He didn't understand what had happened to Dean. He didn't know where Sam was and he hadn't been able to find memories of their separation; at least nothing that was real. The demon knew Sam was not away at college. There was still so much more to discover and watching Dean and Lindsey behaving like lovers who'd known each other for years was becoming tedious and boring.

--

Dean's first day of work was unremarkable. The demon stuck around for a while, but with the constant stream of cars coming through that needed his attention, Dean was less than interesting. Besides, the giddy feelings caused by his evening with Lindsey were almost nauseating….if demons could experience such a sensation. His psyche was too difficult to traverse while awake, so the demon decided to leave Dean to his own devices for a while.

Despite almost no sleep the night before and none the night before that, Dean was in a sickeningly good mood. The demon much preferred the dark recesses of the hunter's mind, but those were easier to navigate when Dean wasn't awake. Some people didn't put up much of a fight one way or another, but the demon was finding that Dean was one tough nut to crack – awake or asleep.

oooOOOooo

"This is kind of an interesting detour," Sam noted as Dean navigated onto another highway. They had been on the most direct route to Bobby's salvage yard and now were going to be headed slightly out of the way.

Dean only nodded.

They'd only gotten a couple more hours of sleep after Dean's dream the previous night, but Sam was getting used to being exhausted. He knew once they were at Bobby's, they'd both feel a little more secure. Dean would probably still keep dreaming, at least for a while, and he'd n doubt have a hard time with whatever the doctor helped him drudge up, but at least they wouldn't be on the road for hours on end.

Sam couldn't really blame Dean for wanting to take the long way to Bobby's, but Sam was anxious to get there. They'd both spoken to him several times and Sam was sure he was recovering as reported, but he still wanted to see it for himself. He also wanted to sleep in a bed and not on the floor for a change.

Since opening up a little after his nightmare, Dean had reverted back to his normally quiet self. Sam had tried to engage him in conversation, any useless topic would do, but his brother obviously wasn't in the mood. He'd tried, but it seemed to take too much energy and after a while the only sound coming from inside the car was from the radio. Sam had tried to convince Dean to upgrade to something more modern, but his brother had no interest in doing anything to the Impala that would damage its integrity.

"You usually avoid cities," Sam commented as they passed a sign that noted the distance to Chicago.

"We'll skirt it," Dean said.

"Huh. Okay."

"We'll get to Bobby's tomorrow," Dean said after a moment.

"Okay."

"I figured we could spend the night in Wisconsin, around Madison."

Sam wondered if there was some significance to Dean's choice of route or the comments he was making about it, but decided that not everything had to mean something. He got the feeling that Dean wanted to talk, but Sam didn't know how to give him the opening he seemed to be looking for.

"You want to do something tonight? Go out for a couple drinks, maybe?" Sam asked, though that was really the last thing he wanted to do.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe."

"You okay?" Sam asked after a moment.

Dean glanced at him. "Yeah. I guess."

"You guess?"

"I just….I don't know. I just feel kinda….off. It's probably just lack of sleep and being so close to the place where I'm gonna have my head examined."

Sam couldn't help but be amused at the way Dean phrased his theory. "You worried about that?"

"Come on, man. It's not gonna come as a surprise to either of us that I'm pretty messed up. I don't need a professional to tell me that. But I deal, ya know? Or, at least I did."

"You know, I'm really impressed that you're willing to talk to this guy," Sam said. "I would have thought you'd have driven off in the opposite direction once you heard about it."

Dean was quiet for several minutes and Sam thought he'd gone too far. He was thinking about how to get the conversation back on track when he heard Dean sigh.

"You have to be able to count on me in a hunt," Dean said. "Right now, you can't even count on me not to run off in the middle of the night. I can't have that."

"Dean, I –"

"It's true, Sam. I know you've been sleeping in front of the door partly for my sake; so that I feel safer. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel better knowing I'd have to step on you to get past you."

"Yeah, well…." Sam looked at his brother. "I know you still have my back, though. And this? We'll figure it out and get past it."

--

They made it to Madison, but instead of staying near the highway, Dean navigated to an area near the university. Sam didn't question him; Dean was a walking atlas and almost always knew where they were and how to get to where they needed to be.

They got a room and after cleaning up and relaxing for a little while, the brothers decided to go out for something to eat. They left the Impala parked at the motel and took off on foot. Neither brother noticed the demon that had been their near-constant companion.

The demon knew exactly where they were. He and Dean had been here before, after all, and not that long ago. It might have been a little subtle manipulation on his part or maybe Dean had gotten here on his own, but however it happened, the demon was hoping for an entertaining next few hours. The demon saw the change in Dean and knew Sam must have noticed it, too.

Any progress he'd made since Sam found him was gone; Dean was back to being timid and uncertain about every move. Sam practically had to order food for him once they'd gotten a table at a nearby bar.

"You okay, man?" Sam asked once the waitress was gone.

Dean nodded, but he didn't look okay to Sam.

Sam kept an eye on his brother as he took inventory of the bar. There were two pool tables on either side, near the back and most of the patrons seemed working class despite the bar being close to the university campus. The demon felt Sam's concern and uncertainty; the change in his brother was too dramatic not to upset him. Sam had offered to leave and find dinner somewhere else, but Dean had simply shaken his head. More subtle manipulation on the demon's part or Dean's stubbornness; even the demon wasn't sure.

The demon could tell that Dean didn't consciously remember this bar, but it was definitely having an affect on him. Sam's attention was diverted by the laugher a group of women at one of the pool tables. As he looked toward the four tall blondes, he didn't notice his brother's hands start to subtlety shake or that he moved them to his lap under the table.

Sam turned back to the table and smiled at the waitress as she dropped off the beer they'd ordered. As she walked away after returning the smile, one of the blondes from the pool table made her way over to the brothers.

"Dean?" she asked, somewhere between curiosity and annoyance in her voice.

Dean looked at her, but there was no recognition on his face. The demon felt the man's panic begin to rise.

"I didn't think you were back in town," she continued. "I talked to Lindsey a little while ago and she didn't say anything. In fact, she said that you haven't called her and –"

"Sam," Dean whispered.

"I'll call her; tell her to come down," the woman reached a hand into her purse and moved a few steps away.

"Sammy, please," Dean said, only slightly louder than he'd spoken before. "Get me out of here."

As the demon watched, enjoying the building anguish, Dean stood up on shaky legs. Sam grabbed a napkin and quickly wrote his cell phone number on it before approaching the woman on the phone.

"Please," he said shoving the napkin into her hand. "Call me later. I'll explain everything."

"Hey!" she yelled as Sam rushed after his brother.

--

When Sam got outside he saw his brother was moving fast, but with Sam's long legs, it didn't take long for him to catch up.

"Dean!"

"We have to go, Sam," Dean didn't slow as his brother fell into step beside him.

"Dean, that girl knew you. You were here, man; in Madison. Look, let's just talk to her and –"

"No!" Dean's voice was shaky.

Sam waited until they'd made it to their room, but grabbed Dean's wrist as he started to throw things into his duffle bag. Dean turned to glare at him, but there was also fear in his eyes.

"Sam –"

"Dean, I thought you wanted to find out what you did? That girl –"

"What if it's bad, huh? Who is that Lindsey she was talking about? What if I...?" Dean pulled away, looking at his brother imploringly.

"What if you what, Dean? What are you afraid of?"

Dean started to speak, but turned away. Sam's cell phone began to ring and he looked at the caller ID display. The name was unfamiliar, but he assumed it was the woman from the bar. Sam answered the phone as Dean sat down on the bed looking as if he knew who the caller was.

"Hello?"

"Were you just in Mitchell's?" a female voice demanded.

"Yeah, look, uh, I really want to talk to you, but –"

"But nothing. You damn well better tell me what's going on. That guy you were with has really hurt a good friend of mine."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, his eyes on his brother.

"Don't play dumb with me."

"I'm not, really. Look, there's a lot you don't know and –"

"So explain it to me."

"I will. I promise. I'm in the motel down the street from the bar and I think there's a coffee shop not too –"

"Yeah, I know the place. When?"

"Fifteen minutes?" Sam suggested and saw Dean flinch.

"Fine," she said and abruptly hung up.

Sam dropped the phone onto the bed and sat down next to his brother.

"Don't do this, Sammy," Dean begged.

"I'm just gonna talk to her. I want to find out what she knows."

Dean shook his head. "I don't know."

"It'll be okay, Dean."

"What if it's bad?" Dean looked at him.

"Dean, come on, man. You probably just hooked up with a girl and left without saying goodbye. Like you've never done that before."

"Hey, I _always_ say goodbye."

Sam smiled at the humor attempt. "Look, you stay here, okay?"

"No, I gotta face the music sometime."

"Dean," Sam hesitated. "The way you reacted in the bar….I think maybe it would be better for you to stay here."

"That sounds like the coward's way out."

"It's not," Sam insisted. "Let me do this, okay? Please."

Dean seemed to search his brother's face before nodding.

"Okay," Sam stood up. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll have my phone on me."

Dean nodded.

Sam slipped the cell phone into his pocket. "You okay?"

"Just hurry."

--

The demon already knew what Sam was going to find out, so he decided to stay behind with Dean. There was such an array of emotions coming from him; fear, anger, anguish….it was almost intoxicating. The demon floated into the room and settled in a corner to watch. The wave of feelings coming from Dean was even stronger now that the demon was closer to him and he found it difficult to concentrate. Luckily, he didn't need to do anything other than hover.

Dean paced for a few minutes, then sat down only to get back up and pace again. He was sweating and his breathing was shallow. The demon couldn't figure out why Dean was so sure that he'd done something bad, but Dean was convinced that Sam was going to come back with horrible news. Not only that, he was afraid it would affect their relationship. Then again, he was always afraid that something would happen that would change his little brother's opinion of him. He'd done a lot of things over the years that Sam might not be so happy about.

The demon had spent most of his energy reading Dean, but he'd gotten a pretty good sense of Sam and he knew there was nothing that could affect the way Sam felt about his brother. It wasn't that Sam was without limits, but he had faith in his brother's inherent goodness. Dean was a hard ass, but he had a decent sense of right and wrong. He showed no mercy to evil of any kind, but he would never hurt an innocent person. The demon shared Sam's certainty about this fact and had been somewhat disappointed to find it out. And he also knew what Sam was going to learn about his brother's time in Madison and that there was nothing for Dean to feel nervous about.

But this was no time to dwell on Dean's goodness. The demon didn't want to be distracted from the abundance of negativity and self-doubt coming from him. There was seemingly no end to it, but the demon didn't want to waste a moment.

--

When Sam walked into the coffee shop down the street from the motel, he saw four blondes sitting at a table near the door. Tanya nodded toward him and he ordered a cup of coffee from the woman behind the counter before taking an empty chair at the table.

"Start talking," Tanya said.

"My name is Sam," he began, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. "They guy I was with….he's my brother. Look, I know you're not going to believe this, but he's been really sick. He disappeared from….from home and he's suffering from memory loss."

"Wow," Tanya said, sounding bored. "That's a colorful explanation for running out on Lindsey."

"It's the truth. Who's Lindsey?"

"The woman he led on. Our friend."

"What did he say to her?" Sam asked.

"Look, the thing is, she trusted him. You have no idea what she's been through in the last few years and he…he told her he had a family emergency and then just disappeared. Then he shows up again? In the same damn bar where they met? That's cold."

"I swear I'm telling you the truth. He's sick. He doesn't remember being here."

The women looked unconvinced.

"Where's Lindsey now?" Sam asked.

"At home. I didn't finish that call to her from the bar," Tanya said.

"Yes," Sam said, intentionally using the expression he'd perfected over years of hunting and having to interview less than cooperative people. He really did want Tanya to trust him and had the truth on his side for a change, but he didn't have time to waste. He needed her cooperation sooner rather than later and was willing to use anything in his arsenal to get it.

"He really doesn't remember being here?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Why are you here? Did he really leave?"

"We're headed…." Sam hesitated for a brief moment. "Dean's memory came back and he called me. I went to pick him up….we're headed back home and…our uncle arranged for a doctor to help him. He didn't know he'd been here before; it's just a coincidence. I swear. My brother wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally."

"Shit," Tanya sighed. "I was really hoping I could stay pissed, but if he's sick…."

"I'd like to talk to Lindsey.'

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"I want to help my brother and maybe if I can explain things to Lindsey…."

Tanya looked doubtful. "I don't know."

"We're leaving in the morning. Well, if I can convince Dean to stay until then. He's afraid he did something bad here. Please, Tanya, I just want to make everything right."

"You can't make it right," Tanya said. Her tone had softened. "But maybe you can make it better."

As Sam watched, Tanya reached into her purse for her cell phone. She dialed while walking toward the door. Sam sat back in his chair and wrapped his hands around the mug of coffee the waitress had dropped off a few moments before. He was uncomfortable surrounded by the other women, but felt that since he'd been able to win over Tanya that things were going in the right direction.

Tanya returned a few minutes later and sat down. "Lindsey is on her way."

"Thank you."

"Look," Tanya sighed. "We're pretty protective of her because….well, she's been through a lot. And I know it was only a few days, but Dean is the first guy she paid any attention to since…."

Tanya's voice trailed off and she looked around the table as if taking a poll.

"I first met Lindsey when she came to work at the firm about three years ago. She had just graduated from college ….Anyway, we weren't great friends or anything, but we hung out at lunch and stuff like that. She got engaged to a guy she'd known since high school. She decided she wanted to be a lawyer and got accepted to law school here in Madison. Things were going really well for her, ya know? But two weeks before the wedding, Jeremy was diagnosed with a really aggressive cancer and he died less than six months later."

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. "That's awful."

"Dean was the first guy she's even looked at since he died and that was almost two years ago."

"Damn," Sam ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."

Tanya shrugged. "I'm sorry that your brother is sick."

--

Dean hadn't been able to sit still since Sam left. He wanted to call Sam and tell him to come back so they could get out of town, but he knew he couldn't do that. Sam wanted to find out what had happened while they were apart and, if Dean could be completely honest with himself, he wanted to know, too.

He felt like a coward hiding out in the motel room while his brother was talking to the woman from the bar, but it hadn't gone well when he tried to leave. He reluctantly made the decision that he needed to confront this situation, but when he reached for the doorknob his hand had started to shake and he felt queasy. That made him feel even more like a coward, but he'd also been somehow relieved.

Dean sat down on the bed to think and quickly reached for his cell phone when it started to ring. He glanced at the caller ID before answering. "Sam?"

"Hey, I'm still at the coffee shop. You okay?"

Dean chose not to answer. "What's going on?"

"Tanya has talked Lindsey into coming down here….I thought I'd give you an update while I'm waiting."

"What did I do to her?"

"Dean," Sam sighed. "Come on, man. You didn't do anything to her."

"I must have since her friend was so pissed."

"All you did was leave. You told her you have a family emergency and you left town. I guess that's when you headed to Lenore."

"Come on, man, I couldn't have been here more than a few days. There's got to be something else."

"There are some extenuating circumstances," Sam admitted. "But you didn't do anything, so stop worrying about that."

"Should I come down there?" Dean asked quietly, his eyes closed and hoping that Sam would tell him not to.

"Let me do this," Sam said after a moment.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I am. You gonna be able to hold on a little longer?"

"I'm fine," Dean lied.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Sam said.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure she's okay."

"Dean…."

"Just make sure, okay?"

"Dean….." Sam sighed. "Look, don't worry, man. I'll take care of it."

Dean went back to pacing after the call ended. He found himself thinking back to when he and Sam were kids; there were so many times that he told his little brother he would take care of something. There had been bullies on the playground at school, adults to deal with when their father was gone, and any number of other things that Dean would take care of for Sam. That's the way it should be. He was the older brother and it was his responsibility….he didn't like Sam fighting his battles for him.

He didn't like it, but that's exactly what he needed right now. Dean sat down at the round table near the window and stared outside. He would do anything for Sam and Dean knew Sam felt the same way, but that didn't make it any easier to accept the help.

Dean felt so weak. He was sure his father would be disappointed in him for not being able to handle Bobby's accident. His dad had lost his wife to a freakin' demon before knowing such a thing even existed and hadn't ever suffered from memory loss. He'd never run away or hidden from his problems, but that was exactly what Dean had done.

"God, you are one pathetic sonofabitch," Dean muttered as he leaned over and put his head in his hands. "Dad would so kick your ass for this."

--

Sam saw a young brunette walk into the diner. She wasn't his brother's usual type, but she was female and sometimes that was Dean's only criteria. She took a deep breath before approaching the table, but seemed completely at ease when she did.

"You must be Sam," she extended a hand. "I'm Lindsey."

Sam stood up and shook her hand. "Hi. Thanks for coming."

"How about you and I get another table?" She smiled at her friends. "I'm sure the blonde army here has made you uncomfortable enough for a while."

Sam didn't know how to respond; he had a hard enough time just not laughing to Lindsey's description of her friends. Sam followed her across the room to another table and tried not to appear as nervous as he felt.

"So, you're Dean's brother," she began after a moment.

Sam nodded, not sure how to read her tone. "What did Tanya tell you?"

"Dean's here? In Madison?"

"Yeah. He –"

"Is he all right?"

"I…I guess that depends on what you mean by all right."

"Tanya said he had some kind of memory loss."

"Our father died unexpectedly a few months ago. Dean….He took it pretty bad and –"

"Your father is dead?"

Sam nodded.

"He told me your parents live in the Midwest and that he talks to them at least once a week."

"He said…our parents? Mother and father?"

"Yeah. Your mom…?"

"She was killed in a fire when I was a baby. Dean was four."

She nodded. "He lied to me."

"No," Sam said quickly. "I don't think so. I mean, I think he really believed the things he told you. See, right before he took off a good friend of ours was in a car accident. He almost died and Dean, well, that's when he took off. He and Bobby, our friend, they're close. Bobby is sort of like a father figure for Dean now that….well, anyway, I think Dean –"

"A fugue? Are you talking about a fugue?" Sam looked surprised and Lindsey shrugged. "I read."

"I can't say that I'm an expert, but from what I've read, it fits."

"He told me he had to go take care of a family emergency, but wouldn't be specific."

"I think he was starting to realize he didn't belong here, but he didn't get his memory back for a few more days. I'm just trying to get him….home. Bobby knows a doctor who can help. At least I hope he can."

"So, his memory came back and he doesn't remember being here."

"I'm sorry," Sam leaned forward. "Lindsey, can you please tell me about the time he spent here? I know it can't have been more than a couple of days, but –"

"Every Tuesday I go to Mitchell's with the Amazons over there. It's ladies night and they can drink cheap beer while pretending to play pool. Anyway, Dean was there and, well, we ended up talking all night. He came home with me and we literally talked all night. We had dinner the next night; we celebrated him getting a job."

Sam sat straight. "He got a job? Where?"

"At a garage across town."

"Huh," Sam was thoughtful. He hesitated for a moment. "Lindsey, my brother….well, we didn't grow up in a picture perfect home and Dean has a lot of scars. We both do, I guess, but I at least had Dean to shelter me from a lot of what we lived with."

"I got the sense that he's a good man. I'm sure Tanya told you about my situation. Since Bradley, well, there hasn't been anyone that interested me at all. I don't normally pick up men in bars or bring them back to my apartment, but there's something about your brother."

That didn't surprise Sam. Despite what Dean thought about himself, Sam knew he was a good person with a big heart.

"I understand what you went through, sort of, anyway," Sam said. "My girlfriend died a while back. I was going to ask her to marry me….Anyway, it was a long time before I even really looked at another woman. It just takes one special person, I guess."

Lindsey nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.

Sam spent another half an hour with Lindsey, listening to her talk about his brother and telling her things he could. It wasn't easy to make their lives sound normal, but he felt he owed it to Lindsey to share some information with her. Once there wasn't much else to say, they exchanged numbers and walked to the door after a brief pause at the table where Lindsey's friends still sat.

On the sidewalk outside, Lindsey pulled her coat more firmly around her. "It probably wouldn't be a good idea for Dean to see me; I imagine he's feeling pretty vulnerable right now. But maybe, when he's feeling better, you can pass along my number to him. I only had a few days with him, but they were good days and I, well, I don't know what exactly, but…"

Sam nodded, somehow understanding what Lindsey meant. "I'll do that."

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

**Away from the Sun**

Chapter 6

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: See Chapter 1

**A/N: **One more chapter after this one...

oooOOOooo

_Look what you did  
Is this who you wanted me to be?  
Well it's not me_

Look what you did  
Is this how you wanted it to be?  
This life you gave away  
Was meant for me

It's Not Me, 3 Doors Down

_And I've bundled up all these fears inside  
And I've bottled up all of this pain  
And no one or nothing can take this away  
But I won't let it happen again  
Never again_

Father's Son, 3 Doors Down

oooOOOooo

Sam dialed Dean's number as he walked back toward the motel, immediately becoming concerned when the call went to voice mail. He quickened his pace as he dialed the number a second time, breaking into a run when he got voice mail again.

He saw the Impala parked outside of their room, but that didn't offer Sam any comfort since Dean had left the car before. Unlocking the door and seeing Dean didn't make him feel much better. His brother was sitting on the floor in a corner of the room.

"Dean?" Sam approached him slowly and when Dean looked at him with wide eyes, Sam crouched in front of him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean blinked and cleared his throat. "I didn't hear you."

"I called," Sam said, glancing around the room for Dean's phone. "You didn't hear it?"

Dean shook his head and stood up. Sam moved out of the way, but kept a close eye on him.

"You talked to that Lindsey chick?" Dean asked. Sam could tell he was forcing himself to speak; it wasn't coming easily.

"Yeah."

"She okay?"

"Dean, I told you that you didn't do anything to her."

"Then why was her friend so pissed?" Dean asked, his back to Sam.

"Dean…."

"Just tell me, Sam. Please."

It appeared that Dean was looking out the window, but Sam could see that his eyes were closed. Sam saw just from his back, though, that he was tense. He had a feeling that no matter what he said, Dean wasn't going to feel any better. He wanted to know why Dean had been sitting on the floor when he got back and why he hadn't answered the phone, but his questions could wait. Dean needed his fears put to rest first.

"Will you at least sit down?"

Dean's shoulders slumped, but he sat down at the table where Sam joined him.

"You met her in that same bar. She was there with her friends."

"So, she was a pick-up?"

"Not your usual kind. She said you guys went back to her place and talked all night. You went to her place for dinner the next night and you guys talked until you fell asleep on the couch. Third night, you went out for a little while, but went back to her place and talked again."

"We didn.t…?"

"I didn't ask and she only mentioned talking. Dean," Sam hesitated. "You got a job here."

"I what?" Dean looked surprised.

"At a garage across town. You got hired as a mechanic."

"I guess I made a good impression disappearing after a couple of days."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I could find the place and talk to the manager if you want."

"It doesn't matter," Dean stared at the table. "What is she like?"

"I liked her. She works as a legal secretary and is going to law school."

Dean looked at him, surprised. "She's smart?"

Dean's reaction made Sam sad. His brother had such a low opinion of himself; he didn't think he deserved anything better than what he had now. He subjugated his desires – even his needs – to those of Sam and no matter what he said, Sam couldn't change that. Even though Sam was plenty capable of taking care of himself, Dean still saw it as his job to make sure Sam had what he needed.

"Yeah," Sam said simply after considering several options. "And she's pretty, but not like the women you usually go after. She's like girl-next-door pretty."

Dean looked thoughtful.

"Dean," Sam began after giving him time to process things. "The reason Tanya was mad is that she thought you were just some guy out to hurt her friend. She thought you led her on only to dump her….Lindsey's had a rough couple of years and her friends are over-protective."

"Rough, how?" Dean asked.

"A few months before she was to get married, her fiancé was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. They got married anyway, but he was dead within six months. You were the first guy she paid any attention to since then."

"Great," Dean scoffed.

"She's okay, Dean," Sam said gently. "I know how she feels; you know how I was after Jess….anyway, I have her number and she wants to see you when you feel up to it. I explained it all to her and she's not mad; she's concerned about you, though."

Dean only nodded.

"You okay?" Sam asked after a moment.

"What did I tell her? About myself, I mean."

Sam knew this question would come up, but he wasn't prepared. He had no idea how to tell his brother about the life he'd constructed for himself. Sam had suspected for some time that when Dean used to tease him about wanting a normal life it was nothing more than Dean protesting too much. He thought his brother wanted the same thing, but had convinced himself over the years that it just wasn't possible for him. He'd wondered if the desire that he'd pushed down so far was part of what caused the fugue he'd suffered.

"Sammy?" Dean prompted, pulling Sam away from his thoughts.

"You told her that you were from the Mid-west and just got tired of the small town you were living in, so you came to Madison."

"What else?" Dean asked, looking at him.

Sam wanted to squirm, but he sat still and met his brother's eyes. "You said that your parents were still there and you talked to them a few times a week. You also told her that your brother was going to school in California."

"My parents…." Dean nodded.

"I don't know everything you said, but I guess you also told her about high school and playing sports; baseball, I think. A lot of stuff about your childhood…." Sam watched as Dean suddenly stood up and walked across the room.

"Can we get out of here?" Dean asked after a few moments of pacing.

"Dean, come on, man. How about we order a pizza? I'll go to the convenience store down the street for a six-pack and we'll just hang out here and maybe watch a movie. I really don't want to be in the car all night."

Sam understood his brother's need to run and normally willing to do anything Dean wanted, because he asked so infrequently for anything, Sam just couldn't go along with leaving before morning. He realized Dean was probably afraid of Lindsey and what the things he told her must mean about him, but it wasn't like she was going to show up at the motel, demanding to see him. There was nothing to run from this time.

Dean looked at Sam, his eyes pleading.

"Lindsey isn't going to come by here; she understands. Come on; pizza and beer. What do you say?"

Dean seemed like a caged animal as he paced. Sam was about to give in, when Dean finally nodded. "Okay."

"You wanna order it and I'll walk down to the store for the beer?"

He seemed reluctant, but Dean nodded. Sam headed for the door, pausing before he opened it. "I won't be long. You want anything else?"

Dean shook his head and reached for the phone book. Sam hesitated a moment, uncomfortable about leaving Dean alone, but he made himself open the door and walk outside. He had every intention of trying to get Dean to talk to him when he got back, but he knew it wouldn't be easy.

As he walked to the store, Sam dialed Bobby's number. The brothers had stopped relatively early. Despite the activity of the evening, it still wasn't especially late and Sam didn't think he'd be waking Bobby.

"Hey, Sam," he answered after the third ring. "Where are you?"

"Madison," Sam said. "How you doin'?"

"I'm fine; starting to really get irritable being asked all the time. What about you two?"

Sam sighed and went on to tell Bobby what had happened in the last couple of hours. Bobby interrupted with a few questions, but had no advice for Sam. It wasn't as if Sam was looking for advice, anyway. He'd just wanted to check on his friend and talk to someone he could be completely honest with.

"The doctor is still coming, right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah; he'll be here day after tomorrow."

"We're going to leave here in the morning; early if I know my brother. He's ready to bolt now, but I talked him into staying over night."

"Was that a good idea?" Bobby wondered.

"I don't know," Sam admitted with a sigh. "I'll call you in the morning once we're on the road."

"Okay. I'll see you boys tomorrow."

Sam ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket. Once inside the convenience store, he passed the magazine rack on his way to the cooler for the beer and noticed a new issue of the car magazine his brother never missed. He didn't think Dean had it yet, so he decided to buy it for him. He also got a box of what looked to be almost fresh doughnuts. If nothing else, they could eat them in the morning. He had a feeling that Dean would want to get out of town as soon as possible without even taking the time for breakfast.

--

The demon was still hanging around, watching Dean. He was almost surprised at how well Dean was handling being in Madison and what he'd found out about his previous visit. He was a little disappointed that there hadn't been more of a reaction, but then again, he knew that Dean was very close to the end of his rope and without the energy to react any more strongly. The demon hovered in a corner unnoticed, knowing that once Sam was back he would perform a quick protection ritual, banishing him from the room. The demon watched as Dean ordered the pizza; normally an easy task, he had to force himself to make the call after vacillating for several minutes about what toppings to include. After ending the call, he moved to the window to watch for his brother. The demon could feel how ashamed Dean felt, but at the same time how much being alone was bothering him. He wasn't used to vulnerability and he needed his brother's quiet strength near by.

Earlier, when Dean was waiting for Sam to get back from the diner, the demon had begun to poke around in his head again. As always, it was difficult when Dean was awake and he'd only been in the outer periphery when Sam's call came in. Dean had finally stopped pacing and was nearly cowering in the corner when his phone started to ring, but the demon hadn't been able to get close enough to find out what was going on. He could make an educated guess; Dean was close to a breakdown and if it happened, it probably wouldn't come in the form of a fugue.

A few days ago, the demon would have relished Dean's anguish, but tonight he felt almost sorry for the man. That wasn't an emotion the demon was used to feeling, but he rationalized it as having spent so much time with Dean and having gotten so intimate with him. Sam knew his brother well, but the demon had been in places that Sam had never been allowed. In fact, Dean had even cut himself off from some of the places.

oooOOOooo

Dean felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He was more restless than he could ever remember being. As kids, he and Sam had to spend a lot of time in motel rooms without being able to go outside and Dean had gotten good at entertaining himself. He was used to having to stare at the same four walls for days on end and had never felt quite this agitated before.

He paced around the room a few times, then sat back down only to get up again. He thought about going for a run just to burn off some of the excess energy, but was afraid he'd meet someone who would recognize him from he'd been in Madison before. He wished Sam would hurry so they could just get out of town.

Dean thought about how patient Sam had been since coming for him in Lenore. Sam had gotten little rest, leaving when Dean was ready to go and even sleeping on the floor to make him feel more secure. Sam had done nothing less than what Dean would have done if the situation was reversed, but still….Dean knew Sam loved him, but the last few days had shown him just how much. Or they should have, anyway. Instead, thinking about it made Dean feel like he'd let Sam down by not being the big brother. Intellectually Dean knew that even he had his limits and sometimes needed to lean on someone, but it went against every instinct he had.

He'd read the articles Sam had printed for him about fugues and he grudgingly agreed that's what had happened to him. Bobby's accident had scared him – not just the thought of losing the man he cared about almost as much as he had his own father, but because of the conflicting feelings the accident caused. He loved his father, but hated him at the same time. He loved Bobby, but it felt was disloyal to his father's memory. He enjoyed hunting and the satisfaction of beating the bad guys, but felt trapped in a world he wasn't sure he really wanted to be a part of anymore He wanted to settle down and have a family some day, but didn't think he would ever find a woman who would love him enough. He knew he was basically a good person, but didn't think he deserved to be happy.

It seemed that everything he felt was at odds and the struggle was more than he could handle. Sam had insisted that didn't make him weak, but instead was his way of protecting himself until he was better able to deal with everything. Dean knew his brother was smart, he always had been, but he hadn't been able to let himself believe that Sam was right about this.

Dean sat back down on the edge of the bed, thinking again about going out. The motel was relatively secluded and the chances that he'd run into someone he'd met before were low, but he decided they weren't low enough. He ran his hand over his face and tried to calm his breathing.

_Please hurry, Sam. _

Dean knew that Sam walking through the door wouldn't magically solve anything, but he needed his brother's strength right now. He'd never really thought about it before, but Dean depended so much on his brother's quiet presence and he refused to believe that made him any less no matter what the little voice in the back of his head was saying.

_Sonofabitch!_

Dean grabbed a pillow and tossed it across the room. A moment later he threw the other pillow and it didn't take long before he was throwing everything he could get his hands on. When he ran out of things that were handy, he opened his duffle bag and when that was empty, he went after Sam's.

As quickly as it started, his rage was over. He collapsed in a corner of the room, shaking, and tears running down his cheek.

--

"Hey, Dean, I…" Sam opened the door and looked around the room. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this, Sammy. I can't – I don't know how to do this," Dean wiped the tears from his face.

"Do what?" Sam asked, moving further into the room while stepping over the debris.

Dean looked at him from his spot on the floor. "I feel like I'm about to explode. I can't sit here and pretend. I can't calmly drink beer and eat pizza. I…." Dean grabbed the nearest thing he could reach and threw it across the room. "I can't!"

Sam put the bag he was carrying down and sat on the edge of the bed. "Dean, I don't know what to do here. Do you want to go? If you do, we'll go."

"It's not that. It's…."

"It's what?" Sam asked, feeling defeated.

Dean hung his head. "I don't know, Sammy. I just….I don't know."

Sam was exhausted and the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on since Dean disappeared left him almost without patience. It wasn't Dean's fault, but he didn't know how much longer he could be reasonable. He knew that Dean was suffering a hundred times more than he was, and despite the shock of seeing his brother's tears, Sam still struggled to maintain his composure.

"Maybe you're right," Dean said miserably after a few minutes.

"Right about what?"

"Maybe I need to talk about this. I have all these…all these confusing feelings. Memories…. Things that just don't make sense."

"What kind of memories?" Sam asked, more than a little intrigued.

"They're not even really clear," Dean said. "I don't know, Sammy, I just feel like I'm losing my mind."

"You're not, Dean," Sam moved to the floor next to his brother. "I think you just need to stop fighting what you want. And stop pushing your needs away. Nearly everything you've ever done was with me in mind first. I appreciate that, man, I do, but if you don't start taking care of yourself…."

"I don't know how to do that, Sammy," Dean said, an unhappy smile on his face.

Sam cast an irritated look toward the door when he heard the knock.

"I got it," he said, standing. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder as he walked past.

After paying for the pizza, Sam set the box on the table and sat down. "Come on; we'll talk while we eat."

Dean looked uncertain for a moment, then joined Sam at the table. After a few minutes of pretending to enjoy the food and beer in silence, Dean looked at his brother.

"I don't think I want to hunt forever."

Sam had a hard time swallowing. He'd always suspected this about Dean, but he never thought Dean would actually admit it.

"I mean, I have no idea what I'd do instead, but….I'm tired, Sam. Everything is so hard."

"Yeah, I know. It sometimes just feels so overwhelming. There aren't enough hunters to fight all the evil, man."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, thoughtfully.

"But, you know, it doesn't have to be all or nothing. I know you get some enjoyment from getting the bad guy and you like helping people. You don't have to stop hunting entirely if you don't want to."

"I've never had a choice, Sammy. About anything. I just did what Dad told me to do." He looked up at his brother quickly. "But I don't regret, you know, watching out for you. That's the one thing Dad never had to tell me."

"Dean," Sam put the slice of pizza down and leaned forward. "I know….I know how much you care about me. That's been obvious my whole life. No matter what was going on, I could count on my big brother. _Always._ But it's okay to do things for yourself; to _want_ things for yourself. It doesn't mean you care about me any less."

Dean looked down at the table, the muscles in his jaw moving. Sam gave him the time he needed; he didn't say anything and just let Dean think. It was several minutes later before Dean spoke, though he still stared at the table.

"How do you feel about Dad? About how he raised us?"

"That's a complicated question."

Dean looked at him, his eyes searching his brother's face.

Sam thought about it for a moment. "I think he was in an impossible situation and did what he thought was best."

"He was different before Mom died," Dean said. "I don't remember much, but I remember him laughing. Do you remember him laughing much, Sammy?"

"Dean…." Sam whispered.

"Because I don't. I remember him yelling. I remember him being gone all the time. I don't remember laughing." Dean stood up and walked across the room. He laughed, though there was no humor in it. "Then again, I don't fucking remember last week, so what the hell do I know?"

Sam watched as Dean paced in front of the window.

"God, Sammy, I'm so pathetic. You know, it's no wonder Dad left me behind. He knew….he knew, Sammy."

"Left you behind? What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused and worried by the sudden manic tone in Dean's voice.

"I didn't mind hunting by myself because I thought it meant that Dad trusted me not to screw up. But that wasn't it. He didn't want to be anywhere near me; he didn't have any use for me. You were gone, so he didn't need me for anything."

"Dean, I –"

"God, I wanted to be like him so much. I wanted to be as brave as he was; as smart. I tried so hard. I trained with the weapons, I learned how to fight, I studied Latin….I loved everything he did – the music, the Impala. I did everything he ever wanted me to do, Sammy. And it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He left me because I wasn't good enough."

Sam stood up and walked toward his brother. Dean had stopped pacing and was standing in front of the window.

"You left, Sammy. You left me, too."

Tears sprang into Sam's eyes and he stopped in the center of the room. Sam knew his leaving had been hard on his brother, but Dean had encouraged him to apply to school. After he'd been accepted to Stanford, Dean had taken him out to celebrate. Dean had helped him pack and drove him to the bus station when it was time for him to go. He'd stayed out of the fight with their father, but Sam knew that had been self-preservation. He'd had no idea Dean had been hurt so deeply.

_tbc_


	7. Chapter 7

**Away from the Sun**

Chapter 7

oooOOOooo

**Disclaimer**: See Chapter 1

**A/N: **I got this section back from my beta and I've been tweaking the end for what seems like hours. Okay, maybe it really has been hours….I don't know if one of the previous versions was better than this one, but this is what I'm going with.

I love getting inside Dean's head and I'm looking forward to seeing what Kripke and company come up with for season four. These characters mean more to me than they really should….

Thanks for reading; I appreciate the reviews and private messages. It's always nice to know what worked for you guys and what didn't. And if you're not familiar with 3 Doors Down, the band whose lyrics I used in this story, check them out.

oooOOOooo

_Memories have left you broken  
And the scars have never healed  
The emptiness in you is growing  
But so little left to fill  
You're scared to look back on the days before  
You're too tired to move on  
And now you think that you're the only one who doesn't_

_You hide behind your walls  
Of maybe nevers  
Forgetting that there's something more  
Than just knowing better  
Your mistakes do not define you now  
They tell you who you're not  
You've got to live this life you're given  
Like it's the only one you've got_

It's the Only One You've Got, 3 Doors Down

_It's down to this  
I've got to make this life make sense  
Can anyone tell what I've done  
I miss the life  
I miss the colors of the world  
Can anyone tell where I am_

'Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again  
Away from the sun again

Away From the Sun, 3 Doors Down

oooOOOooo

Sam had been too distracted by the condition of the room when he got back from the store to remember the protection ritual, so the demon was still hovering in a corner. The wave of emotion coming from Dean was stronger than anything the demon had felt from the man before and he was drunk with it.

There was no reason to probe the depths of Dean's anguish because it was practically flooding the room. The demon could tell that Sam felt it, too, and the younger man's agony was just as delicious as that of his brother.

The demon hadn't been able to find anything about Dean's time alone with their father. He knew Sam had gone off to college, but what happened during that time was locked away and he'd not been able to get to it. He couldn't tell if what Dean was remembering now were the actual facts or something he'd manufactured. There was too much raw emotion to get any closer to the man and he had no idea what was going to happen next.

--

"Dean," Sam managed to whisper. "No, man. I didn't leave you. Come on, you know that, right? You know I didn't leave you."

Dean shook his head. "Everyone leaves me."

"Dean, I'm right here."

"God, I feel like my head is going to explode," Dean turned away. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Sam said as he took a few careful steps forward.

Dean glanced at him.

"So, you know I'm not going anywhere, right?"

Dean said nothing, but Sam could see he was tense.

"Dean?"

"I shouldn't have brought that up. It's all in the past."

"Come on, dude, haven't you figured it out yet? You have to deal with this stuff; you have to move past it."

Dean moved away and sat down on the nearest bed. Sam joined him after a moment. "Is that how you really feel? That I left you?"

"It wasn't that you went to school. I didn't like you being away from the family, but I knew it was something you really wanted to do. Hell, it was something you _needed _to do. But…"

"But what?" Sam asked gently.

"When you and Dad couldn't get past that fight…"

Sam watched as his brother struggled with the words. He knew what Dean was going to say and all of a sudden he realized what he'd done. He and their father had had an awful fight before Sam left where he was all but banished from ever coming back. At first, he and Dean kept in touch, but it got too hard for Sam and he'd asked Dean not to call for a while. A while turned into weeks, then months and then years. He'd never intended that to happen and looking back, he couldn't believe he'd even asked that of his brother.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I…." Sam had no idea what to say to make it better. He couldn't fix this because it hadn't been a misunderstanding between them. Sam had only intended the distance to last for a few weeks; long enough for him to really get his footing at school, but it had been too easy to let it go on. "I was wrong, Dean. I was being selfish and I'm sorry."

"It's over," Dean said quietly.

"You know I never meant to hurt you, right? I'd never do that intentionally."

Dean nodded, but Sam wasn't so sure Dean really believed him.

"I'm here, okay? I'm one hundred percent here."

"I know you are, Sammy. And I coulda called after a while, right? It wasn't just you."

"You were just doing what I asked."

Dean shrugged one shoulder.

"What about what you said? That Dad left you behind. You don't really believe he only wanted you around just for me, do you?"

Dean shrugged again. "I don't know. I don't want to believe that, but things just weren't the same after you were gone. I guess there's no way they could have been, though. But even before that, it just seemed like I was more of a pain in his ass than anything else."

"I think I was the pain in his ass. He was always pissed at me for asking questions and not following his orders. He appreciated you doing what he asked; he knew he could count on you."

"I guess."

"At the hospital, before he….before he made that deal... Dean, I think he knew there was only one shot to save you and he took it. And it wasn't just so you could be around to watch after me. He loved you, Dean. I know he did."

"I wish I knew that."

Dean's voice was so soft that Sam wasn't sure at first he'd spoken.

"He was hard on you, I know that, too. But….I used to watch you when you, especially when you worked on the car with him. I would have given anything for that kind of time with him, but I was too pig-headed and never tried to find a way. I know that me telling you that Dad loved you doesn't mean much, but I think if you go back and think about it for yourself, you'll see it. Dad did the best he could, but sometimes it didn't come across as well as it could have."

"He'd be really pissed at me about now if he was here."

Sam looked at his brother. "You know, I'm not so sure he would be."

Dean seemed surprised. "Yeah, right. Whenever something bothered him, he just sucked it up and moved on. He wasn't weak."

"Neither are you," Sam insisted. "Besides, Dad drank more than you do and we don't know what he did when he was off on hunts without us. We don't know what he did to cope with everything."

"Besides," Sam continued when Dean didn't respond. "I think it's stronger to face your problems than ignore them. You're dealing with all this stuff, talking to me and agreeing to talk to the guy Bobby knows…come on, man, it's all going to finally be in the past for real and it will never have power over you again."

Dean looked at his brother, a mixture of humor and hope in his eyes. Sam expected him to make some smartass remark about psychobabble or chick flick moments, but Dean only nodded.

"Maybe you're right, Sammy."

--

The demon was disappointed that all of the high intensity emotions coming from Dean seemed to be over. He watched as the brothers cleaned up the mess Dean had made, then settled on their beds with the pizza and beer to watch some idiotic sit-com on television before going to sleep. He hadn't felt this level of tranquility from Dean before and it was a huge letdown after what he had been experiencing. Neither brother remembered the protection ritual, but there didn't seem to be a point in routing around in Dean's head. He'd started to face his feelings and before long, the things he'd been hiding from himself would even start to surface. He thought about checking in when the counseling started, but the demon felt he was about at the end of the fun for now.

Knowing there was probably nothing more to see, the demon watched as the brothers slept; surprised at how reluctant he was to leave. At first, he'd stuck around out of curiosity. He'd wanted to find out what was so special about this Winchester he'd heard so much about. But then when he realized the legendary hunter wasn't quite himself, the demon stayed around to find out what would happen next. He thought the game was over when Dean recovered his memory and reunited with his brother, but that's when things had gotten really interesting. And now? Well, maybe he just wanted to see it to the end. It wasn't possible for him to actually care about Dean….was it?

The demon settled back in a corner of the room; he may as well stick around until the boys got to Bobby's.

oooOOOooo

The next morning, the brothers woke up within a few minutes of one another. Dean had a headache, almost as if he was hung over, but he hadn't even finished two beers the night before. He didn't want to let on to Sam how bad he really felt, but he admitted to not being at his best.

After they showered and dressed, the brothers headed out of Madison, with Sam behind the wheel. As Sam had suspected, Dean didn't want breakfast, so they ate doughnuts in the car and stopped for a real meal when they were far enough out of town that Dean felt comfortable no one he'd met when he was in town before would be around.

The demon tagged along with them, hanging out in the diner when they stopped for a late breakfast. He listened as they talked about nothing in particular then faded into a comfortable silence with a section of the morning paper.

Dean felt a little better after food and coffee, but he still let Sam drive. Curled up in the seat and leaning against the passenger side door, Dean let his eyes close and his mind wander. He thought about his childhood and how he'd always tried so hard to impress his father; all he'd ever wanted was his dad's love and acceptance. It seemed he'd had it for a while, but he didn't know if it had been real or just an illusion. Sam was convinced their father had loved him and Sam wouldn't lie; not even in an attempt to make him feel better.

It hadn't been fair that the yellow-eyed demon had chosen his family. As far as Dean knew, it was random and even if it had somehow been connected to Sam, it was something manufactured by the yellow-eyed bastard. Sam had been just a baby; he couldn't have been responsible for what happened.

Sam was probably right; their dad had done the best he could. It must have been hard enough to lose the woman he loved, but to lose her to a demon? And to find out the monsters in the closet were real? It was a wonder John Winchester made it through that as well as he did….that's what the adult in Dean thought, anyway. The little boy in him still desperately wanted his daddy.

And what of the life he'd invented and told Lindsey about? It made sense to Dean that he'd made his family whole; his life would have been so different if his mom had lived. He used to make fun of Sam for wanting a so-called normal life, but secretly, that's what Dean had always wanted. He liked the weapons he used as a hunter and enjoyed getting rid of the evil creatures, but he also wanted a home to go to. And maybe, just maybe, someone to share that home with him. Dean would always want Sam close by, but he also wanted a woman that was more than a one-night stand. Every now and then, Dean would allow himself to think about that. Usually it was when he was drunk or had just bedded some random woman he picked up in a bar. He never allowed himself to think about it for very long thought because it always hurt too much. He knew he would never have it; he probably didn't even deserve it.

He and Sam had talked a lot in the last few days and one thing Sam had told him kept coming back to him – it was okay to want things for himself. Dean had never really been given that opportunity. He had so much put on his shoulders at too young an age and it rarely occurred to him that he might want something other than what he had. Even the few times he thought about his future, he'd felt guilty if what he pictured didn't include hunting.

Dean shifted in the seat and watched his brother through half-closed eyes. Sam was so different than the little boy he had protected; different even than the kid who had gone off to college. He was strong and confident, no longer needing to stand behind Dean. Sam was perfectly willing to stand beside him, though and Dean appreciated that.

Sam had never found it necessary to hide behind a game face. He didn't whine or make excuses, but if he was in emotional pain, he wasn't afraid to show it. The one notable exception was right after Jessica died. Dean had known how much Jessica's death hurt Sam, especially losing her to the demon that had already caused so much damage to their lives, but getting through Sam's defenses, defenses that Dean hadn't even known existed, had proven difficult. Part of that, Dean assumed, was because of the distance that had grown between him and Sam. Whatever it was, he was glad Sam had managed to move forward and they had repaired their relationship.

"Hey, Sam?"

Sam glanced at him. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Sam looked at him again and Dean thought he was going to make him explain his gratitude. Instead, Sam smiled and turned his eyes back to the road. "You're welcome."

oooOOOooo

The brothers had a long day in the car, but after stopping for gas and coffee Dean had finally started to feel more like his old self. Back behind the wheel, he turned up the music and finished the drive to South Dakota.

They'd spoken to Bobby a few times from the road and when Dean pulled up in front of his house at the salvage yard, the old man was waiting for them on the porch. He was all but recovered from the car accident, but his face still showed evidence of the cuts and bruises he had sustained.

Dean stood next to his car, suddenly filled with uncertainty as he looked toward his friend. He saw Sam smile at him encouragingly, but he couldn't make himself move.

"Dean?"

"Gimme a second, okay, Sammy?"

Sam nodded and headed toward the house. Dean watched as he exchanged a few words with Bobby, then continued inside.

"What are you waiting for, boy?" Bobby called, his tone friendly.

Reluctantly, Dean shut the car door and took a few steps forward. He hadn't expected to be this nervous; it was only Bobby, after all. Bobby stepped off the porch and as he walked toward him, Dean noticed the limp. Bobby had mentioned it in one of their phone conversations, but had made light of it.

"You look good," Dean said when they were only a few steps apart.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I'm a real ladies' man. You and me go out together and the women won't give you a second look."

Dean smiled.

"You all right?" Bobby asked after a moment.

Dean shrugged, squinting into the sunlight. "I'm better."

"I'm proud of you, boy. Facing up to everything this way? It can't be easy."

Dean looked away, but felt Bobby's hand on the back of his neck and turned back toward him. He could feel the tears already burning his eyes, but there was no sense in trying to hide them. He resisted for a moment as Bobby pulled him closer, then wrapped his arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Dean said.

"You got nothing to be sorry about, son," Bobby said gently as he held Dean securely.

After a few moments, they moved apart and walked to the house together. Passing through the door, Dean realized this was the one place in the whole world that almost felt like home. He and Sam had spent time at Bobby's as children, but it had never felt as warm and comfortable to him as it did now. He walked through the house to the kitchen, barely seeing the clutter and mess as he passed by.

Sam handed Dean a beer and they sat down at the table with Bobby. He'd made a simple meal for them and it was the first time in while that Dean actually enjoyed what he was eating. After finishing dinner and cleaning up the few dishes, the men headed off to bed.

Sam followed his brother to the bedroom Bobby had made up for them and tossed a pillow onto the floor.

"You don't have to do that," Dean told him. "You can sleep in the bed."

"You sure?"

"I didn't run off last night, did I?"

Sam picked up the pillow and sat on the edge of the bed. "Dean?"

Dean looked at him.

"When I didn't know where you were….I was really scared, man. I don't know what I would have done if –"

"There's no _if_ here, Sammy."

"Yeah," Sam said, his hands clasped between his knees.

Dean sat across from him. "You know, this isn't over, right? That doctor will be here tomorrow and I don't know what's going to happen."

"I don't know, either, but I'll be right there with you."

"Thanks."

"You're my brother," Sam said as if that explained everything.

Dean nodded.

--

The demon hovered on the periphery of Bobby's property, knowing better than to roam around. Bobby's skills were well known and his house had been described as a mine field by others who knew from experience. From this distance he was just able to get a sense of what was going on in the house and he felt the peace that had come over Dean.

He didn't know specifically what the future held for the Winchesters, but he knew that Dean would recover from the last couple of weeks and would be stronger for it. The bond between the brothers was already sound, but this experience had brought them even closer together and shown Dean a side of his brother he hadn't seen before. He would always be the big brother and would always feel protective of Sam, but now he knew he could lean on Sam once in a while, too.

Satisfied that things were in order and feeling oddly sorrowful to leave, the demon reluctantly began to move away. He promised himself that he would check on the boys soon and might even tag along with them when they left to take on a job. Maybe one day they might even need his help.

Epilogue

The brothers spent several weeks with Bobby and the doctor worked with Dean as intensively as Dean let him. Despite the nightmares and frequent headaches Dean while undergoing the counseling, he felt better than he had in a quite a while. He accepted the conflicting feelings he had about his father and the childhood he and Sam had shared. When the doctor left, he was pleased with the progress Dean made, even though there were things he still refused to deal with.

A few months later a job took Sam and Dean close to Madison. Once they'd taken care of the malevolent ghosts at the recently reopened hospital, Dean surprised Sam by asking if he'd spoken to Lindsey since they'd been in town before.

"A couple of times," Sam admitted, watching Dean carefully.

"You didn't tell me."

"No," Sam agreed.

"Do you think she'd be willing to talk to me?"

"I think so," Sam said after a moment. "You want to talk to her?"

Dean turned the beer bottle around in his hands. "I almost feel like I have to. The shrink told me it probably wouldn't be a bad idea."

Sam took his phone from his coat pocket and set it on the table. "I can call her – unless you want to?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "You call her. See if she has time tomorrow before we leave."

Sam nodded. "I'll call from outside where it's quieter."

--

In the bar's parking lot, Sam dialed Lindsey's number and listened to the ringing while thinking about the last few months. Dean had opened up to him more recently than he had in a long time, but Sam knew that Dean's mask was still firmly in place. Dean still acted like the big brother, but he let Sam in more than he had before.

In some ways Dean had changed a lot, but some things would probably always be the same. Fundamentally, Dean was who he was and he'd adjusted his attitude just enough to keep his sanity. That was enough for Sam; he saw each small step that his brother made as a major victory.

Sam spoke with Lindsey for several minutes before going back to his brother. Lindsey had agreed to meet them in the same coffee shop where Sam had first spoken to her. Dean nodded and stayed quiet for the rest of the night.

--

At Dean's request, Sam went to the coffee shop with him the next morning. Lindsey was already there and after making rather awkward introductions, Sam left them alone.

"I, uh, I wish I could remember…." Dean looked at her, an indescribable warmth filling him. "I'm sorry."

Lindsey smiled at him. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. And I should be thanking you, anyway."

"Thanking me for what?"

"I loved my husband very much and I was devastated when he got sick. I can't even tell you what bad shape I was in when he died. It was like I died right along with him. I went through the motions of being alive, but I wasn't really. I did what was expected of me and pretended that I was happy. I was convinced that I would never be interested in another man."

Dean watched as she stared into her coffee. When she looked at him, her bright blue eyes glistened with tears, but there was a soft smile on her lips.

"I don't know what happened in the bar that night. You were sitting there, all cocky and sweet at the same time….I have no idea why I talked to you, let alone asked you back to my place. Dean, you opened my eyes; you made me feel alive for the first time in years. My life is different now. It's better. And I have you to thank for that."

"I didn't do anything," Dean protested softly.

"I know that you didn't set out to do anything, but it was you that woke me up. I know that this is going to sound incredibly cheesy, but it's like you put the color back into my world. Everything is more vibrant, more beautiful. You're a very special man, Dean."

"I think I was just in the right place at the right time."

Lindsey shook her head, but said nothing.

"I can be kind of a bastard," Dean said a moment later. "My relationships are all pretty much one-night stands. I knew there had to be something about you for me to stick around more than a few minutes….And now that I've met you – again – I really wish I could remember those few days. I think they must have been…."

"They were," Lindsey agreed.

They talked easily for the next half hour when Lindsey had to leave for work. Dean walked with her to her car; she opened the door, but turned back to face him.

"I'm really glad you wanted to see me," she smiled at Dean. "And I'm glad that things are going better for you.'

"Thanks," he nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Lindsey smiled at him, then reached out to gently touch his cheek. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably not."

Lindsey nodded. "Well…Take care of yourself, Dean. I get this feeling that you're searching for something. I hope you find it because….well, because I think you deserve some happiness."

Dean didn't know what to say and didn't think he could have spoken even if he had the right words. He felt Lindsey's hand on the back of his neck and a moment later she leaned toward him. Their kiss was gentle, but it gave Dean more fulfillment than anything he'd ever experienced. He felt a connection to this stranger and as he watched her drive away, he couldn't help but think he'd missed out on something that could have been amazing.

Once Lindsey's car had gone around the corner, Dean joined Sam in the Impala. He looked questioningly at Dean as he slipped behind the wheel, but didn't press when Dean only nodded.

They already had another job to get to and as Dean reached for the volume control on the radio, he realized that he was okay. He wanted to tell Sam what he and Lindsey had spoken about and the resulting feelings, but not yet. He wasn't afraid to admit how he felt; he just wanted to keep the warmth and contentment to himself to enjoy for a little while longer.

That night would be soon enough for a conversation with Sam.

_The End_


End file.
